Pale Fire
by Hamliet
Summary: Both Yukine and Yato are trying to focus on building new lives-for Yukine, at high school, and for Yato, at college-but when Yato's father shows up as his professor and a mysterious girl starts tailing Yukine at school, they find that it might not be so easy to escape their demons after all. College/High School AU. Yukinora, Yatori, Kazubisha.
1. Layers upon Layers

**Thanks for reading! I plan to update this fic 2-3 times per week on avg.**

* * *

 _The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction_

 _Robs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief,_

 _And her pale fire she snatches from the sun;_

 _The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves_

 _The moon into salt tears_

-William Shakespeare, _Timon of Athens_

* * *

"You? Of all people, _you?"_

Yukine lifted his head. The box of dishes he was carrying was too heavy. He set it down on the pavement, squinting. A beautiful girl with long light hair marched towards Yato, Yukine's brother for all intents and purposes.

"You're moving in here?" The girl's lips curled into a snarl. She held a cat with a lion-like mane to her chest.

Yato managed a smile. "I see Karuha's still doing well." He nodded at the animal, who hissed.

"You had to move into my house?" she continued, ignoring his pleasantries. "It's not—"

"Technically Yukine and I will be living on the second floor. You and your roommate have the third, and our landlords have the first." Yato tilted his head towards Yukine, who gave an awkward wave. How exactly was he supposed to react? The woman looked as if she'd like to set Yato on fire for something he'd probably done.

"I know how it works," she huffed. "I've lived here since undergrad." She looked to Yukine. "Are you in charge of him?"

"He's my brother," Yato said, dragging Yukine over and wrapping an arm around him like he was proud to show Yukine off.

The woman arched an eyebrow. "Poor you."

"I'm Yukine," he said.

"You clearly don't like me insulting your brother." She rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm sure you'll find out it's true if you don't know it already. I'm Bishamonten. I would say we'd never have to see each other but we both know that's not realistic." She turned and stalked back into the house. The cat growled at them. Or at Yato.

"Ex girlfriend?" Yukine asked as he crouched, picking up the box of dishes again. He grimaced. His shoulders strained. Sweat beaded his forehead.

"Not hardly." Yato scowled. "That's a story for another time, okay?"

"Okay." Yukine couldn't exactly protest. He staggered over the threshold of the house. The box dug into his palms. He cringed. Just—the stairwell left—his arms strained. He would not drop this box. He would not drop this—

"Whoa there!"

The load lightened. Yukine blinked.

"Don't worry; I got you," said a smiling man. "I'm Daikoku, your landlord's husband."

Yukine didn't know what to say. "Is it the landlord's job to help us move in?"

"No, but Kofuku would be mad if I didn't." Daikoku nodded at a woman with pink hair unlocking their door.

"Welcome, welcome!" she said cheerily. Yukine wasn't quite sure how to read her. "We're glad to have you!"

 _Or the money,_ Yukine thought as Yato staggered into the apartment, swearing as he carried three boxes stacked on top of each other. Of clothes.

"We've known Yato for years," she continued.

So clearly that meant she had to know whatever was the history between Bishamon and Yato. And still offered them a place. Or maybe she just didn't like Bishamon.

"You're going to the local high school, right?" asked Kofuku. "What year are you?"

"I'm year two," he said. "Sixteen."

"Will you be taking the exam for the same college as Yato next year?" asked Daikoku.

"I'm not sure yet." Yukine shot daggers at Yato. _Help me._ He did not want to answer so many questions.

"He's got time," Yato said cheerfully, slinging an arm around Yukine's shoulders. Yato was in his final year studying physics, with an astrophysics focus. He spent most of his evenings grumbling about his research on moons across the galaxy.

"Bisha's studying genetics at the same university," Kofuku said. "She'll calm down, Yato."

Yato winced. "Maybe."

"Her roommate, Kazuma, is just studying his graduate studies in the same lab," Daikoku added.

Yato nodded. "I know Kazuma. He's great."

"You're not helping your case when you say she isn't an ex," Yukine informed Yato the moment they left. He unpacked the dishes. One mug was chipped. Yukine didn't care. He liked it.

"Hey!" Yato tossed bubble wrap at him. Yukine caught it with a laugh, crunching the bubbles. "She's not. I kissed her once, but it wasn't like that. Not ever."

"You're really not helping your case now."

"Brat."

"Did you know she was living here?" Yukine grabbed a stool to put the dishes in the cabinet. He hated being short. The gods were not fair.

"Nope." Yato scowled as he pulled out a sweatshirt and shrugged it on. "But Kofuku knows both of us, so it's not really surprising."

"Oh." Yukine frowned. When Yato took him in, Yukine had been wary of trusting him. But Yato seemed to be similar to him: on the outskirts of society. But he was at least more willing to break in. Yukine envied him in that aspect.

 _I hope I can learn._

Then again, when he remembered he had to actually enroll in a school and sit in some stupid classroom for hours on end starting on Monday, he reconsidered.

* * *

"Have a good day!" Yato called. "Or, survive."

Yukine smirked, rolling his eyes as he slipped out the door. Yato still had another hour before his class. He hadn't seen Bishamon since moving in, though Kazuma had waved at him and Yukine as they cleaned.

He grabbed his bag and headed out. He hoped Yukine had a decent time at school. It'd be good for him to socialize. Yato supposed, anyways. Or so all the articles online that he had been staying up into two in the morning on the fuel of coffee and desperation had told him. He was Yukine's brother and father figure now and damn if he wasn't going to be the best one he could be. It hadn't been easy to convince people that Yukine would do better with him than in an institution like he'd been consigned to for most of his life. And the reason why was something Yato was told not to discuss with people, and he wouldn't. Poor kid.

But he liked Yukine. From the moment he met him on a freezing winter day, the kind of day that made your bones feel like icicles and your ears feel like frigid wet fingers were probing around inside, helping a girl waiting for her mother at a bus stop-a mother who never showed because if Yato knew anything for certain in this world it was that parents could be dicks-he saw himself in the kid. Which was why he let the boy stay at his tiny apartment when he pretty quickly realized the kid had no home either.

" _If you don't want people to know that you grew up in one of those places," said Yato, chomping on a chocolate bar. "Just say I'm your nii-san."_

" _As if," snapped Yukine, yanking the chocolate away from him to have a bite. "Nii-san."_

He liked how it sounded.

Yato arrived on campus and headed towards the building his first class was in. Ah, he had to take some stupid biology class to fulfill a requirement. How dumb. He could only hope Bisha wouldn't be TA'ing or he was probably in for Fs, deserved or undeserved. But this school had such a large biology department.

Sure enough, as Yato entered the lecture hall, he saw a boy named Kaguha as the TA. Tolerable. He dropped into a seat, huffing, and checked his phone. No disastrous text from Yukine yet.

"Is this seat taken?" a voice asked. Yato craned his neck.

His stomach somersaulted. Her eyes popped. " _Yato?"_

His jaw hung open and his voice wouldn't work. It took him a few minutes to find it again, to say her name. "Hiyori?"

"I didn't know you were a student here!" She plopped down in the seat next to him, fumbling to take out her notebook.

"I've got one more year and one more requirement to knock off," Yato admitted, glowering at the screen at the front of the room.

She laughed. "I'm a literature major, so this is for a requirement too. Although it's my first year."

Of course it was.

"How's Yukine?" she asked, jaw soft, tone tinged with concern.

"He's fine," Yato said. "We moved into a new apartment. I'm taking care of him."

"Good."

They met together, the three of them. The same day he met Yukine, a few hours before, a girl shoved him out of the way of a car because he was too busy angry texting Kofuku. Yukine had been with him for one day before he ran into her again at her summer job, a small bookstore.

" _Excuse me," said the manager, approaching as they stood around talking, feeling each other out. Yato could tell Yukine thought Hiyori a pretty girl. Which she was. "Can you empty your pockets?"_

" _Why?" Yato demanded._

" _You know these people, Hiyori?" asked the manager. She nodded. "Well, our security cameras picked up on something interesting."_

Shit _. Yato slid his eyes towards Yukine, who was avoiding his gaze, focusing instead on the jars of little pins with literary quotes on them, worry stones, and small candies._

 _Yato scowled, emptying his pockets. A crumpled tissue, two receipts so old the ink was faded or worn, nothing else._

 _Yukine studied the floor. He balled his fists up. And then he turned to run._

" _Hey!" Yato grabbed his elbow, catching him. Yukine struggled, but only for a few moments. He glared up at Yato, and in his eyes Yato saw an expression that struck him cold. Defeat. Like he was older than the fourteen years he claimed to be_ — _even though he was short, a fact which Yato had not hesitated to point out_ — _and as if he expected Yato to hate him, to turn on him._

" _Wait!" called Hiyori. "He didn't actually_ — _I gave him those. Yato told me not to, but I gave him them. I was going to ring it up and pay for it myself." She flashed an awkward smile. "Right, Yukine?"_

 _Yukine glanced at her. His eyes were wide. His jaw trembled._

 _And Yato had to clamp his mouth shut to keep from gaping. She was_ — _people didn't do things like that. But she_ — _twice, now. First, the bus, now Yukine. Why did she care so much?_

 _He thought he knew what people were like, but she was unique._

But they called the police anyways, and Yato decided to intervene. A few days later, after Yato had gotten custody of Yukine, he went to Hiyori's shop. But she no longer worked there, and he knew Yukine blamed himself.

Since Yato came for him, since Hiyori helped him, the kid had been nothing but helpful, almost too much so sometimes. Yato wanted to be a good older brother for him. A decent father. Though he had to look up resources to even begin attempting to imagine what that might look like.

"We went looking for you," Yato said. "But we presumed you'd lost your job because of—"

Hiyori narrowed her eyes. "I quit."

"Huh?" Yato gaped. Students continued to filter in around them. Yato ignored the flurry.

"I didn't like that they called the cops on a scared kid."

"Well, it was the law."

"I didn't care. It gave me more time to practice martial arts anyways." Hiyori smirked, tapping a purple pen against her lips. "Are you gonna need a study partner for this subject?"

"Absolutely not, my scientific gifts will carry me through."

"I think your nose is growing three sizes."

Yato rolled his eyes. "Why, will martial arts and literature not save you?"

"Not hardly," Hiyori said. "Though, my dad's a doctor. And I used to want to be one, so maybe that'll save me."

"Lucky," Yato said, glancing again at the still-empty front of the classroom. Two more minutes until the professor had to arrive. Probably some arrogant asshole determined to make a grand entrance. All professors had to have minored in drama, Yato was certain. "Want to keep each other afloat?"

Hiyori laughed. He liked the sound, like tinkling chimes. "Let's."

"Yukine'd probably like to see you, too," Yato said. "You should come over for dinner."

Hiyori nodded. "Sure."

His heartbeat picked up. Yato twirled a pen between his fingers. He tried to imagine having a doctor for a father. Because his father was—

The professor.

 _I'm sorry, what?_

He couldn't actually be seeing this. Yato rubbed at his eyes.

"Are you okay?" asked Hiyori.

Yato couldn't even respond. His tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth. He could only stare at the man standing at the front of the classroom next to the projection screen, smiling serenely. The classroom felt like it was tilting, like he would fall out of his seat.

 _You have_ got _to be fucking kidding me._

"Yato?"

 _What did I do wrong in a past life to deserve this?_ He gritted his teeth. His pen felt as if it might snap in his hand.

"Hello, hello, class," called his stupid father. Or not really. Foster father, except he wasn't ever anything of the sort. "I'll begin by taking the roll."

 _Nope_. Yato glowered, folding his arms and slouching and contemplating how badly he really wanted to graduate. By the time he reached his name, Yato had clenched his jaw so tightly he couldn't even pry it open to answer the man.

"Yato?" prompted his father, looking straight at him. "Or are you absent?"

 _Fuck you_. Yato uncrossed his arms. "I'm here."

"Good. Did you not hear me correctly the first time?" He kept a pleasant smile on his face, a lightness to his tone, and it made Yato sick.

"Oh no, I heard you," Yato said, and something ignited in his bones. "I'm just a bit confused." He kept his voice even. "You see, I thought our professor had a different name."

Hiyori slid her eyes to him, brow furrowed. Someone let out a small gasp. Surely they thought he was being rude. Yato scowled.

"Indeed," said Father. "But he was—unable to teach this semester due to a personal problem. So I, Professor Fujisaki, took over, and I'm delighted at the opportunity to teach you all. I'm a new doctorate, but I assure you I'm more than qualified."

 _Oh, I'm sure._ Yato narrowed his eyes. _You set all this up, didn't you? You snake._

"I don't believe there are other sections this semester, but if you have—"

The walls were closing in on him. Either he got up now or stayed rooted in this seat for the entire semester—no, for his entire life. "I'll take it next semester. This isn't what I signed up for." Yato stood.

Gasps resounded now, all horrified at his rudeness.

"Well, should you change your mind, I'd be happy to welcome you back," chirped Father.

"My mind's made up." And it couldn't be changed. But then, neither could he, could he?

"Yato," hissed Hiyori. "What—"

He glanced down at her, completely confused, stunned really at his rudeness. Well, he had no better option right now. Or ever. "Sorry, Hiyori." He turned and stalked out of the lecture hall, the door banging behind him.

 _Hiyori…_

Shit. His father saw her sitting with him, talking with him. Now he'd probably target her. Well, it was good she'd quit that job then, and he wouldn't have a class with her. He could focus on Yukine and not on anything else, and he wouldn't have to worry about whatever his father would try on her. He would give up once he saw Hiyori was not tied to Yato. Yato hoped, anyways.

He stopped in his tracks. He had no idea how he was going to face Yukine and tell him he'd marched out of a classroom after he'd been encouraging the boy to face his own demons.

 _I can't do it. I can't change._

 _Fuck._

* * *

High school sucked. Yukine watched the kids around him whisper, nodding at the strange new kid whom they couldn't give a shit about. He also got a math teacher who liked to call on him even though it was the first day and reveal just how little Yukine knew. He fucking hated math.

Lunchtime came around and he retreated to the outside campus, sitting on a rock wall and pulling out his rice and chicken, the one Yato bought him from the local convenience store. He heard other kids laughing as they sat in groups, with friends like he'd never had, but he was around the corner, so at least he would not have to see them and remember yet again that that familiar feeling, the one that scraped at his bones.

"You're in my spot."

Yukine looked to the side, blinking. A girl with short dark hair crouched on the wall next to him, staring. How the hell did she sneak up on him like that? What was she, some kind of ghost? "Who are you?"

She cocked her head, studying him. "You have pretty eyes."

"Huh?" His hands found his sockets. "What—"

"You're the new kid, right?" She hopped down from the wall. "I usually sit here for lunch."

 _Okay…_ "Well, I'm sitting here today."

Her eyes narrowed. "You live with your older brother, don't you?"

"Huh?" How did she know that? How did—

"His name's Yato," she continued, a smile on her lips, which were covered in a pale lipstick. "But he's not really your brother, is he? It just makes you both feel better to call each other that."

"Who told you that?" Yukine got to his feet, chest heaving. What else did she know? Who even was this—

Her lips broke apart, but there was no smile in her eyes. Like glass, they simply reflected him and nothing behind them. "He's my older brother too."

Yukine shook his head. "Yato doesn't have a family."

"Oh, is that what he told you?" She stepped closer. "I heard he wouldn't even be your brother if you hadn't gotten yourself arrested. Because of you, he had to move out of his old apartment. Because of you, he had to—"

"Shut up!" Yukine glared at her. "How the hell—"

"I told you. He's my brother. A sister should keep an eye out for her brother, and a brother for his sister. That's what siblings do." She put her hands on her hips. "You're in my class and in my brother's life and now you're in my spot."

"Exactly," Yukine heard himself say. He laughed, because this girl was contradicting herself. "That's what siblings do. Yato and I are—keeping an eye out for each other. He doesn't seem to consider you his sister, and you didn't pay for this spot, so go away."

Her eyes flashed. "Now you're being rude."

"You are the rudest person I've ever met, and that's saying something."

She actually stomped her foot. Like a toddler. "You're—"

The bell rang. Yukine glared at her. She reached out and grabbed his food, throwing it onto the grass. She stormed inside.

"The bell rang anyways; that was pointless," Yukine called after her.

She didn't turn around.


	2. Among Lies

Yukine made his way back to class, leaving the remnants of his lunch for the birds. Somehow he doubted the girl intended to do anything so kind as feed animals. He grabbed his textbooks and dropped into his seat with a huff. Across the classroom, the girl rested her chin in her hands, glaring at him. He tried to ignore her. His face felt like it was burning off. Why was she like this?

"Ooh, you better watch out," said a voice behind him.

"Huh?" Yukine turned around to see another girl sitting there, covering her mouth as she slid her eyes towards the scowling lunch-ruiner.

"You look like you've attracted her attention is all," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"She hates me," said Yukine. "Does she often freak out if people sit in her space?" Maybe he'd sit at her classroom desk next time. Or not. She might actually pull out a knife and kill him or flip the desk over. And honestly something that petty was probably not what Yato would do. Well, not what Yato would want _him_ to do, at any rate.

"That's Nora," said the girl. "Or Hiiro. Or Mizuchi. She's had a bunch of names."

"Huh?" Yukine didn't understand.

"She changes her mind on what she wants to be called constantly. And she doesn't really have a family or a name."

"She told me she had a brother." Yukine wondered if he should mention it to Yato. Probably. But now or later?

 _Now_ , he decided, pulling out his phone and texting. _You have a sister?_ Though Yato was probably in class right now. That biology requirement he'd been complaining about.

"Yeah, she talks about him a lot, but he doesn't show up like ever. She's trash." The girl popped a bubble of gum. "And a liar, I'm sure. That brother probably only exists in her imagination."

The girl—Nora—narrowed her eyes at them as if she could tell they were discussing her. She tapped her foot against the tiled floor.

"So is she crazy?" Yukine asked.

"Dunno. I don't think so. I think she's just weird. And a slut."

Yukine started. His face felt like blood had been replaced with lava. Nora leaned back now, still with her gaze lasered on them. She might have been across the classroom but Yukine suddenly had a feeling she knew exactly the topic of their conversation, that it was hardly something she hadn't heard before.

The other girl rolled her eyes. "She like, runs after everyone who appears in front of her and so much as smile at her. Men, women, it doesn't matter. Teacher or student. The guy she lives with she calls her father but he isn't really her father."

"Foster father?" Yukine offer, voice small. He thought of Yato. A shudder worked through him. He did not want these kids finding out that he had no family, either.

"She's really sad," said the girl. "I could almost feel sorry for her if she wasn't such a bitch to absolutely everyone. She plays games with people and goes after other peoples' boyfriends and girlfriends and is just—she's pathetic. Like, when both of you were missing at lunch, people were joking that she'd be off blowing you."

"Agh!" Yukine clamped his hands over his ears. Now acid was dissolving him from the inside and the acid was labeled embarrassment. _Do you have to be this explicit_?

"Don't worry," said the girl. "I told them not to say that. We don't even know you, after all."

 _But if you did know me…_ If they found out he'd been arrested at one point, if they found out he didn't have a family, if, if, if… Yukine swallowed. He picked up a pencil and twirled it around, eraser on the desk. "Well, that wasn't—I mean—"

"Yeah, but she has set her sights on you," said the girl. "She's still staring."

"She yelled at me," Yukine said. "It's not like that."

"Who knows what that bitch is thinking," said the girl. "She plots. She's always scheming. She probably wants to try enemies to lovers next. Anyways. That's my friendly advice. Watch out for her; she's a man-eater."

Their teacher entered the classroom, and the girl shut up, finally. Yukine glanced over his shoulder.

Nora ignored him for the rest of class.

* * *

Yato checked his phone. From Yukine. _You better be texting me from your lunch break and not from class,_ he thought.

 _You have a sister?_

Yato stopped in his tracks, coffee warm in one hand, laptop open on the library desk just a few meters away.

Of course. Of fucking course. Fujisaki wouldn't give up. He was going to play Nora against Yukine now too. Yato gritted his teeth. It wasn't enough for him to try to entangle Yato in his web; he'd go after everyone he could. Because he couldn't fathom not having someone to control.

Was everything an illusion? All this freedom, the past few years he'd been playing at having a life of his own, scrounging up money to make rent every month by doing the most menial of odd jobs, all worth it, or so he told himself. But Father wanted to stomp all over it. Like he was nothing. Like he was still Yoboku, that stupid name he'd given him.

 _I'm not him. I'm Yato._

Yato grabbed his laptop and stuffed it in his bag. He chugged the coffee. It tasted bitter, sludgy. Time to storm home and contemplate dropping out of college. Or moving elsewhere. He had to protect Yukine. He owed it to him, and also Father might leave Hiyori alone then.

 _Why do you have to ruin everything?_

Yato barged into his new house, stomping up the stairs. He heard voices in the wooden stairwell.

"Hello," said Kazuma, waving at him. Bishamon leaned against the wall, scowling as if Yato had personally stepped on one of her cats. Which he hadn't. Although…

"Looks like you had just as terrible a day at school as I did," said Bishamon. "What happened, no random cats for you to hurt?"

"Bishamon—" _That wasn't what_ — He sighed. Kazuma studied his shoes, face just as impassive as ever.

"Well, whatever," Bishamon said. "I have enough problems."

"How many are you hoarding up there?" Yato called.

"Just Karuha!"

"That's a lie."

Bishamon rolled her eyes. "If I was made of lesser stuff, I'd flip you off."

Yato flipped her off. Kazuma glared at him. _Oh my god, you still haven't told her? You worthless 'roommate.'_ Kazuma was, of course, the one who recommended Yato apply to live here, but only on the condition that Yato never mention they were in contact. But if Kazuma didn't act on his feelings sometime in the next week Yato might have to do something. Then at least Bishamon could have a hobby besides hating him and collecting stray cats and mothering everyone in her lab.

"Your father's a postdoc in my lab," said Bishamon, hands on her hips. She descended the staircase.

Yato froze.

"So you did know."

"He was teaching my biology class," said Yato. "I—"

"Have fun with that. Will he give you special treatment in terms of easier grades or worse ones?"

"I quit. I'm dropping the class." And potentially school itself.

Bishamon wrinkled her nose. "Why?"

"Because I don't feel like dealing with his shit." Yato dug through his pockets for his key.

"Well, I'm not the coward you are," Bishamon informed him.

"What does that mean?" eked out Kazuma.

"Isn't he in your lab now, too?" asked Yato. "Since you just joined her lab."

"It means, if he starts any shit like I know he will, I'm going to file a complaint for sexism against him and take it to the board," Bishamon retorted. "I don't even care about how he treats me. He already commented on my skirt being too short. Like father, like son."

Yato cringed. He didn't remember ever saying anything like that. But it was entirely likely at one point.

"But he also mocked Suzuha for making a mistake. If he goes after the younger students, I'll personally see to it that his reputation is in tatters by the time he leaves."

"Um, I don't think that's a good idea," Kazuma objected.

"It's a great idea. The lab is run by sexist abusive asshats and it's about time someone took them down." Bishamon straightened. "But, we'll see. That's just to warn you, Yato. If I go for him, it won't be because of you because I still have a dartboard with your face on it."

"I really don't know if you're joking or serious," Yato said.

Bishamon shrugged. "Well, now you know." She tapped her foot, clad in a thigh-high black leather boot. "And if you quit school like I know you're thinking of doing, you're exactly the coward than I thought you were."

Yato's eyes bugged. She turned and stalked into her apartment, where he heard the mewling of cats. Kazuma nodded at him and slipped after her.

He hadn't hurt the animals. He'd just rehomed them, with Nora at his side. Bisha was going to lose her apartment because she was not allowed to keep pets. Admittedly she didn't have that many actually, but…

They were all happy now. It was fine. Except Bishamon, but she would probably be unhappy over something else if it wasn't over that.

She didn't know Kazuma, then an undergrad who had a massive crush on her—at least judging from the fact that his photo app on his phone essentially had only photos of her—had asked Yato to help. Yato flopped onto his couch.

He probably should just drop out. But then he'd have to explain things he did not want to talk about just yet to Yukine. Although he would have to do that anyways when he came home. _God, Nora, can't you just leave me alone?_

She wouldn't. And Father wouldn't. Not ever.

He had a teacher in high school. Her name was Sakura. He didn't even have a picture of her. She was kind. She treated him like he actually mattered, and he couldn't help but think that maybe, maybe things were different than he'd always known. She smiled at him even when he didn't perform well. Father never did.

And now she was dead. By her own hand, of sorts, but also because of Father, because of Nora.

He just didn't want any more blood on his hands. And if Bishamon wasn't careful, she'd find herself in a hornet's nest.

The door pushed open on time. Impressive. So he hadn't contemplated ditching him too seriously. What was less impressive was Yato lying here on this secondhand couch for the entire afternoon, but Yukine didn't need to know that.

Yato sat up. "Yo."

Yukine dropped onto the floor, slinging his bookbag down next to him. He sat cross-legged, staring at Yato. "You didn't text me back."

"Nope, I didn't."

"And?"

Yato rolled over, hugging the weird throw pillow Kofuku bought as a welcoming gift, the one with chickens on it, to his chest. He met Yukine's eyes.

"Do you have a sister?" Yukine demanded.

"No."

"Okay then."

"Well, we did grow up together." Yato sighed. "Nora?"

Yukine's jaw set. "Yeah. Nora."

"We had a shared—foster father," Yato said. "He wasn't very nice."

"Oh." Yukine leaned back on his hands.

"She acts like him in many ways," said Yato at last. "Though it's been—well over a year since I saw her last."

"Well, she's in my class." Yukine picked at the black skull patch sewn onto his jeans. "And she's not very nice."

Yato wasn't that surprised. Then again, as kids Nora was nice. Or maybe neither of them knew what nice was, if they thought Father was nice. "He's one of the professors at my school. A postdoc in Bishamon's lab."

"Huh?" Yukine blinked.

"Fujisaki," said Yato. "He—raised me. If you can call that raising."

Yukine drew his knees up. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, not go to that class, first of all," said Yato. "I'll—take it next semester." He couldn't drop out. Not with Yukine looking up to him. It'd just be wrong, and dammit, he was not going to be anything like Fujisaki as a big brother or dad figure. Even if in the opposite sense. He would do the best he could and it'd be good enough. "The problem is Hiyori is also in that class, and he saw me talking to her, and he doesn't like that he can't control me anymore, you know. He doesn't think I can make it on my own."

"Hiyori?" Yukine's eyes widened. "That girl from the shop?"

"Yeah," said Yato. He rolled back onto his back, staring at the late afternoon sun streaking light across the ceiling.

"The pretty one?"

Yato jabbed his finger at Yukine. "Don't get any ideas! She's too old for you!"

Yukine threw his hands into the air. "Is she too young for you?"

"Hey!" Yato threw the stupid chicken pillow at him.

Yukine caught it. Of course. "If you're so worried about her, maybe you should actually talk to her. Tell her about him and to be aware."

 _You're believing me so easily?_ Yato propped himself up on the armrest. This couch was threadbare but seriously comfortable. "Want me to talk to Nora?"

"Would that just make things worse for you?"

Yato shrugged. "I can at least ask her to back off. She's not bad; she's just completely loyal to our father. She doesn't see herself as a person." But they both knew what that was like in different ways, Yato knew. He heard little details about Yukine's backstory before he ran away.

 _I can't save her. I can barely save myself._ And now he had Yukine to worry about too.

Still, he could do this.

* * *

Yukine sat in the same spot at lunch the second day. The other kids weren't particularly appealing to him, because no matter how despicable Nora seemed to be, they didn't seem much better. She appeared, saw him, and scowled.

 _I'm not moving._ Yukine did, however, shift his food onto his lap, keeping one hand on the container so that she couldn't send it flying in another temper tantrum.

Nora stomped over to him, hopping up onto the wall next to him. Yukine's breath hitched.

She said nothing, just yanked out her apple and bit into it as if she was imagining biting his head off.

 _Well, fine then. I'm not going to break the ice._ Yukine ate in silence. Nora didn't so much as look at him. If anything they said about her was true, he surely wasn't going to be the target of her affections.

When school ended, he found Yato waiting outside just like he said he would be. Yukine waved, trotting over. He glanced over his shoulder and found Nora glaring, nostrils flaring. And then, as expected, she hurried over to them. "Yato!"

"Nora," he said, stiffening at her embrace.

"I miss you," she said, her eyes actually lighting up. But something desperate tinged her voice, and she shifted as if to block Yukine from view.

Yato pushed her away, gently. "Nora, Yukine told me you're threatening him."

Nora's jaw dropped. "I'm not."

"Well, if you really did ever care about me, then—"

"About you? What about me?" Nora blinked rapidly. "I care! How can you doubt I care? You're my big brother." She kept her voice low, so the others wouldn't hear, but still, people turned to look at them. "Father and I heard you moved back—we wanted to have you for dinner—he got a job just to stay around here for you—"

"That's creepy," Yukine objected.

Nora looked furious. "That's—"

"Nora," said Yato. "No." He grabbed her shoulders. "Please don't make Yukine's life difficult."

Nora's chest heaved. "So you're choosing him over me?"

"This sounds awkward," Yukine interrupted.

"Let's go, Yukine," Yato said. "Don't follow us, Nora. Though I'm sure you already know where we live, because Father asked you to tail him yesterday or something, or got it out of Bishamon." He grabbed Yukine's elbow.

 _Yikes_. "That's creepy!" Yukine repeated as Yato dragged him away. "What the—"

"I'm sorry," Yato said, voice ragged. He dragged his hand through his hair. "I don't know if that helped or just made things worse."

Yukine scowled. "Don't worry. I can handle myself."

"You shouldn't have to."

"Well, I can."

"Well, I can still beat you if we race, shrimp."

"Hey!"

But the next day Nora did ignore Yukine. Even at lunch, though she insisted on eating in the same spot. This time she refused to look at him, though. Yato said he hadn't been able to talk to Hiyori, but Yukine doubted that was exactly the case.

A week later, and they were still eating lunch together, silent. Yato asked how things were going and he said fine, because they were fine, even though he wasn't quite sure how to make friends. And Yato had enough going on with college.

But the others started whispering. Yukine ignored them, but he couldn't help but feel the familiar seeds of bitterness needling at his stomach. These kids who all had parents and families and had never had to worry about food in their lives or having a roof over their head had nothing to do but look at others like entertainment.

Nora rose and stalked away from him, tucking her hair behind her ears, and Yukine checked his phone. Nothing from Yato.

Yukine wondered why they were bothering.

 _I want something new. I want to know what it means to be a part of all this._

But could he get a chance, if no one would give it? Some of that old anger welled up inside him again, burning and cutting. It'd only been a week, but Yato hadn't talked to Hiyori, and he hadn't—

A shriek echoed.

Yukine jumped up. He scrambled around to see a group of his classmates darting away from the trash can, and Nora standing there, her white shirt soaked in what looked like some kind of soda. It dripped off her cheeks, her nose. He gaped.

Nora spotted him and wiped her face. She ducked her head.

"What happened?" he asked awkwardly. What else was there to do?

"They called me a whore and ran off," Nora snapped. She pulled her shirt away from her skin. It was sticking. Her jaw trembled, and then she slammed it shut. "I didn't even do anything."

Yukine cocked his head.

"I hate them," said Nora. "And they hate me. Everybody hates me. Even you."

Yukine swallowed.

" _You called the police after all?" cried Hiyori._

And he hadn't been surprised.

He held out his hand, offering her his jacket. "You're still Yato's sister, right?" he asked.

She blinked. Her fingers, sticky with soda, closed around the jacket. She shrugged it on. "Thank you."


	3. Stepping Out of Line

**Warning for a mention of suicide this chapter, and underage drinking.**

* * *

Class and run. His new routine. Only a few days old, but habits already cementing it.

Yato stuffed his books into his bag the moment the professor dismissed them, scrambling off campus before he could risk seeing Professor Fujisaki. He was sure the man knew which classes he was enrolled in. He was probably schmoozing with Yato's professors already. It'd be just like him. And he'd rather get back to that apartment. Kofuku was trying to teach him to cook for Yukine. It was going—well, he hadn't landed either of them in the hospital nor burned down the apartment building yet.

He also didn't want to see Hiyori and explain.

But today when he tried to rush off campus, he found people clotting the sidewalks, all on their phones and gasping. _Please get out of my way if you're going to walk so slow._

He saw one girl wiping her eyes and cussed internally. "What's going on?"

"Did you read the campus-wise email?" she asked.

"Uh, no. Not yet." He totally didn't usually delete those.

"A grad student killed himself," she said. "His name was Suzuha."

Yato clutched the strap of his bag.

"Did you know him?" asked the girl.

Yato shook his head. He pushed past her. Bishamon's voice echoed in his mind. _He makes fun of Suzuha…_

 _Fuck!_

He broke into a run, racing off campus. Running at least made him feel accomplished, like he was doing something, even if it was just saving his own skin from the sticky virus that was Fujisaki. He burst into the apartment building, chest heaving.

Sobs echoed from behind Kofuku and Daikoku's door. Yato hesitated. He wondered if he should knock, should tell Bishamon that he was sorry. Knowing her, she had been motherly to every single underclassman in her lab.

But no. He'd just make her feel worse and remember other things she lost. Yato lowered his chin. He trudged up the stairs.

Kazuma leaned against the door. Yato wasn't even surprised. He didn't greet the other man, twisting the key to unlock it. Kazuma followed him in.

"What happened?" Yato asked, shutting the door behind them. He dropped his bag on the floor. They only had the one couch, and a desk by the window, a desk covered in Yukine's homework. Yato dropped down into the desk chair, gesturing for Kazuma to take the couch.

"She's pissed," said Kazuma. "Your father wouldn't let up on the poor kid. Not that it's his fault, but—"

"He probably enjoyed it," said Yato, curling his fist. "That's the kind of shitbag he is."

Kazuma shrugged. "Bisha was Suzuha's mentor."

Yato covered his mouth, leaning forward, elbow resting on his knee. "She sounds upset."

"Obviously." Kazuma clutched his knees. Silence elapsed. Dust filtered through the late afternoon sunlight, pooling on the desk.

"Yukine's got Nora as a classmate."

Kazuma's eyes bugged. He pushed his glasses back. "Poor him."

"Yeah." Yato flexed his fingers. "Do you ever feel guilty?"

"No," Kazuma answered instantly, so quickly that Yato wasn't sure whether he believed him instantly or expected his nose to grow three sizes. "I can't let myself feel that way. She would—it was in her best interest."

"And she'd hate you for it," Yato pointed out.

"Like she hates you," Kazuma agreed. "But I'd do anything to keep her safe."

"Is this you saying you might ask for something else soon?" asked Yato. "Because there's nothing I can do. I'm not talking to that shitbag as long as I can avoid it."

"I know," said Kazuma. "She's the only one who ever—I mean, she made me believe—I would have dropped out of school if it wasn't for her encouragement, and the way she sticks up for people—it's—but it'll get her in trouble. The world's not kind to people with that sense of justice. And she'll blame herself, you know, for Suzuha."

"Probably."

Kazuma swallowed. He rose. "I'll text you if there are any crises."

"You don't have to," Yato called.

Kazuma smirked. He let himself out.

Yukine staggered in, sans his jacket. He waved at Yato, who tossed a bag of chips at him. Yato had spent the past hour trying various math formulas and contemplating telling them all to get fucked.

"What's with all the crying downstairs?" asked Yukine. "I wanted to ask Kofuku, but I wasn't sure if they'd want to hear from me." He ripped open the bag, offering Yato some. Yato took two.

"Something bad happened to someone in Bishamon's lab," Yato said.

Yukine frowned.

"Suicide," Yato said quietly.

"Oh." Yukine drew his knees up to his chest.

"Also, you forgot your jacket at school," Yato said. He didn't particularly want to discuss suicide right now.

Yukine rubbed his face. "I… gave it away."

"Huh?" Yato didn't understand. He'd saved to buy Yukine that-

"I mean, I let someone borrow it." Yukine's face was scarlet.

Yato narrowed his eyes. "I see."

Yukine shifted.

Yato rested his arm on the back of the chair. "And would that someone happen to be a _girl_?"

"N-no."

"You," Yato informed him. "Are a terrible liar."

"I'm not!" squawked Yukine. "It's not like that!"

Yato rose, dropping onto the couch next to him. "Spill." Though he wasn't sure he liked the idea of Yukine dating. He was sixteen, but still. Still. He was a kid. Now Yato knew. He didn't like the idea at all.

"The kids just threw soda all over one girl and she was soaked and her shirt was white so I gave her my jacket; that's all!"

"What's her name?" Yato was already planning a background check.

Yukine angrily bit into his chips. Yato tapped his foot, waiting.

"It's Nora," he said finally.

"What?" Yato eked out. Of all the—this wasn't happening. Right? Right?

"It's not like that!" Yukine protested again, hands waving in front of his face. "I promise! I just felt bad—they called her a slut."

Yato scowled. Kids could be so shitty. "Just be careful around her, Yukine."

"It's not like that!"

"Methinks," said Yato. "You doth protest too much."

Yukine hit him with the pillow.

* * *

"Here's your jacket."

Yukine jumped. He slammed his locker shut. He hadn't heard anyone approaching.

Nora held out his jacket. His face burned, Yato's words echoing in his mind. He was just teasing. Except he was also serious about warning him, and it really wasn't like that. He'd never had a remotely pleasant conversation with her.

He took the jacket from her. "Thanks."

She looked away from him. "Thank you."

Giggles erupted at the end of the hallway. Nora scowled. "They're going to say you're my latest target."

"They can fuck off," Yukine replied.

Nora's eyes widened. A smile crossed her face, and a small laugh. It was cute.

Wait, what was he thinking? No, no, nope. He was not going to let Yato be right about this.

 _I hate her._

 _I can't get her out of my head._

That day, at lunch, she actually talked to him. "Do you have friends?"

"Huh?" Yukine blinked.

"Friends," she said. "Do you have them?"

"Yato," said Yukine.

"I thought he was family."

"I don't know." He wasn't sure whether there was a difference or not. It was cloudy that day. He swung his legs, kicking them out.

"I don't," said Nora. "Father's all I need."

Yukine wondered about all the rumors. _Are they even true?_

Not that it mattered. Either way, Nora didn't deserve to be treated like that, that much he knew. And of everyone in this school, if his past were to leak out, Nora would probably be the only one who didn't look at him like a criminal. Or maybe she would.

"Hey," said Nora. "Father's making me go to a party this weekend."

Yukine arched an eyebrow. " _Making_ you?"

"It's at our house, and I don't want to go, but he wants me to so I will." Nora kicked her legs out then, like she was trying to swing up towards the sky, but they were sitting on a stone wall, not a swing. "Want to come?"

Yukine blinked. "Yato—"

"Won't come, I know," said Nora. Her hair hid her eyes.

"But you want me to ask him."

"I just don't want him to hate me."

Yukine clenched his palms around the edge of the rough rocks. They scraped. He remembered that feeling, when he looked at Yato when the police came, and he was certain he would hate him, and he hated Yato for that certainty, he hated the shopkeepers, he hated the police, he hated everyone. _Why?_

But Yato didn't hate him, and it all crashed. Yukine plucked a small chip of rock from the wall, tossing it onto the grass. "What if just I come?" _Is this your way of asking for a friend?_

Nora nodded. "That'd be fine. I just—I don't like all those people there. They'll all be from the college and all of Father's friends always look at me like I'm a nuisance."

"Then why doesn't he just tell them not to?"

"He does. He just can't control them."

 _He can control himself though, can't he? And who he is friends with?_ Yukine scowled. "I'll see you there."

Nora nodded. "Can I get your number?" She pulled out her phone.

Yukine read it off for her, and then a laugh echoed. One of their classmates overheard. Fuck.

Nora looked at him, as if she expected him to shove her away or deny anything.

He didn't feel like it. They could be friends. Maybe. Cautiously, like Yato said.

* * *

The weekend rolled around and Yato engrossed himself in studying.

"I'm going out for a little while," Yukine called. "I'll be back in a couple hours. One of my classmates is having a get-together."

"Okay." Yato rubbed his forehead.

Yukine tried to suppress his feelings of guilt. He wasn't sure he really wanted to go, but he kind of had to. Nora was actually fun to talk to at lunch, once she stopped prying for information about Yato, which she was frequently subtly trying to do. But he'd promised Yato he wouldn't say anything about him.

When he approached the house, he heard a bass thumping through the pavement. Yukine cringed. What kind of party was this?

He heard slurred laughter. Oh. A college one.

If Yato didn't have him to worry about, would he be enjoying himself at one of these? Yukine stared up at the house, small but far larger than the apartment he shared with Yato. A couple made out in the driveway. Yukine flinched.

"Hey, Yukine," said a voice behind him.

Yukine yelped, whirling around.

"Sorry," Nora said, carrying several grocery bags.

"Why do you always sneak up on me?" he grumbled.

"I don't. You must be hard of hearing." Nora frowned at the house. "We can hide upstairs. There are too many people."

Oh, thank God. Yukine heaved a sigh. He reached out to help her with the bags. She blinked but handed two over, slipping around the side of the house to a back door. She unlocked it, and he followed her into the kitchen. Thankfully the inside wasn't so wild. Laughter echoed from the living area, and the sweet stench of alcohol filled the air. Nora unpacked some small platters of wraps and other appetizers, setting them out.

"Good job, Mizuchi," called a man.

 _Shit._ Yukine avoided looking at the man.

"Thanks, Father," she said, beaming.

"Who's this?"

"My friend," said Nora. "You told me to invite people, so I did."

"Ah." The man crossed the room, holding out his hand. "Fujisaki."

Yukine craned his neck up, meeting the man's eyes. He was surprisingly handsome, but almost too much so, as if he'd carefully arranged each strand of hair, as if the small wrinkle on his shirt was strategically placed to look attractive. "Yukine."

"Nice to meet you, Yukine." Fujisaki nodded at him, and Yukine felt something cold curdle in his stomach. The man definitely knew who he was beforehand. He must have told Nora about Yukine and Yato, right?

"Sorry," Nora said as soon as he left. "We don't have to see him after this."

Yukine nodded.

"Let's go to my room," Nora said. "I have some art things there. We can paint."

"Uh, okay." He hoped she meant painting. Another thought made his hands clammy. He really hoped the rumors about her weren't true.

"Hey, I'll just—" A girl entered the kitchen and froze. "Yukine?"

He gaped at her. "Hiyori?"

 _Don't tell Nora don't tell_ —

She grabbed him in a hug. "I haven't seen you in so long! Or Yato—"

"He's been looking for you," Yukine blurted out, meeting her purple eyes. "Yato has been, I mean."

"Really?" She grinned. "What are you doing here? You're not in college." She put her hands on her hips. Like a mom, and he didn't even mind.

"Friends," he said, gesturing to Nora. "This is Nora."

Nora waved. She had a glazed look on her face.

"I'm Hiyori," she chirped.

"Well, we're about to go paint, so—" Though he really would not mind staying here and talking to Hiyori. At least he felt comfortable with her.

"Of course, have fun!" Hiyori tugged at her hair. "Hey, Yukine?"

He turned around.

"Can you give me his number?"

"Sure." Yukine rattled it off. Hiyori tapped it into her phone. This lessened the guilt he felt about deceiving Yato. At least if he got in touch with Hiyori over Yukine being here, he couldn't be too mad.

Nora climbed the stairs two at a time. Yukine hurried to keep up. She let him into her room, which looked very much like a traditional Japanese room. Pretty, but haunting. She set down two cups.

"What's that?" Yukine demanded.

"I made a wine cooler," Nora said. "Soda and wine. Not much wine." She held it out to him. "Yato won't mind. He used to get drunk sometimes. He was a funny drunk."

"There are kinds of drunks?" Yukine took the cup. He stared at the pink, bubbly liquid.

She looked at him like he was an idiot. Which he wasn't. Well, maybe. Now he was flustered and annoyed.

"What kind of drunk are you?"

"I've never been drunk." Nora took a sip. She reached behind him and opened a cabinet, removing various jars of ink and paint. Yukine let out a breath. "Do you like it?"

"No," said Yukine, glaring at the liquid. "It's—bitter."

Nora laughed.

"I don't know how to paint," said Yukine.

"That's okay. It's the only thing I like to do. Besides spend time with Father and Yato, but Father's busy lately." Nora cocked her head. "What do you like to do?"

"I don't know," Yukine said. "Study, I guess."

Nora picked up a brush and sketched a kanji on her forearm. _Mizuchi_.

"Hey, why did he call you that?" asked Yukine.

"That's his name for me," answered Nora. "Yato used to call me _Hiiro_. I liked that name." She scowled, painting Hiiro on her arm next, and then slashing black through it, blotting it out.

 _You're weird._ "But isn't your name Nora?"

"Legally," answered Nora. "But I don't like it."

"Oh." Yukine reached for a brush and a piece of paper. "I don't know what to do."

"Just paint whatever you want." The sounds of the party echoed down the stairs.

Yukine scowled. He took another gulp of the wine. Ew. He painted himself and Yato and Nora. Except they looked like stick figures.

Nora smirked.

"I suck," said Yukine.

"It's cute. Who's the girl?"

"You," he said. "You're like. One of a few people I know, so."

Nora blinked. Her phone buzzed. She rolled her eyes. "I have to go downstairs for a minute."

"'Kay." Yukine glared at his painting. He wished he hadn't started. It looked terrible. She'd at least managed a pretty sunset after she finished painting names on herself.

 _What happened to you, that you have to live with a foster father? Or Yato?_

But he didn't want to talk about things, so neither did they. Yukine rested his chin on his knee. This room felt too proper, like no one actually lived in it. He shivered, gulping more of the wine.

Nora was taking a long time. He rose, checking his phone. Maybe he could find her. He didn't like how that drink made him feel.

He reached the bannister and froze. Because down below, he saw Fujisaki. And Hiyori. And Fujisaki was leaning over her, his lips on hers. _She's your student, asshole!_ Yukine curled his fists.

And so much for wanting to text Yato. Yukine's lip trembled. Yato would be—if he quit biology just to avoid the man and didn't want him hanging out with Nora, then— _Hiyori, why?_

 _I thought Yato could at least get a happy ending, have things work out. Change._

 _I want to, too._

He turned and pushed down the stairs, worming his way towards the door. He didn't know why he tried. Or why this was upsetting him so much. He was stupid.

"Yukine?" Nora appeared in front of him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going home," he spat. "Sorry."

She crossed her arms, not protesting like he expected. "Fine."

Yukine headed outside. The night air was cool, crisp. He wiped at his eyes. There was no moon though, and the streetlights did little to abate the darkness. He paused at the end of the driveway, yanking his jacket tighter around himself. He was so stupid. So stupid for being this upset.

The door opened again behind him, the dull clamor of the music suddenly sharp again. Yukine turned around.

Hiyori hurried outside, her face crumpled. She stopped when she saw him. "Yukine? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong with you?" he blurted out. He really didn't have any right to be mad at her. She and Yato barely knew each other. He just—

"That gross professor just _kissed_ me," said Hiyori. "He's a creep. And—" She paused. "Did you have a drink?"

Yukine wrapped his arms around himself. "Like half of one." He wondered if he looked drunk. He didn't think so. He didn't even think he was. Well, maybe he was a stupid drunk.

Hiyori frowned. "How are you getting home?"

"Bus?"

"I'll walk you."

"Or I could give you a ride," came another voice. "Since I know where you live."

Yukine looked up.

Bishamon.

 _Well, I'm fucked._


	4. Coming Clean

A knock on the door. Yato slammed his textbook shut. He swung it open.

Kazuma stood there, hand gripping the back of his neck. "Well, she's doing it."

"Huh? She's doing what?" Yato stepped back to let him into the apartment. "You?"

"No!" Kazuma glared at him.

"Nice one, Yato," called Kofuku's voice.

 _So much for having an evening studying on my own_. Kofuku burst into the apartment. "Good you're all here. I made muffins." She held out a tray. "Want some?"

Daikoku appeared behind her, rolling his eyes. "You just wanted gossip."

"Don't call me out." She stuck her tongue out at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, though, and so were Daikoku's.

 _Were you fighting?_ Yato thought it unlikely. _What happened?_

"So, who's Bisha doing?"

"No one! I mean, I don't know! Stop being like that!" Kazuma looked to Daikoku. " _You_ have a sense of propriety; help me!"

Daikoku raised his hands as if to say he would not be getting involved. Yato laughed. "We're just teasing, Kazuma."

"It's not funny," he mumbled, dropping down onto the couch. "We're roommates. We're not like that."

Kofuku opened Yato's cabinets, scooping out muffins for each of them. "So, what is Bishamon up to?"

Kazuma rubbed his face. He started blankly at the muffin. "Filing a complaint against Fujisaki."

"Well, good," said Daikoku. "From the sound of it he's an asshole who should not be in a position of power—"

"No, you don't understand." Kazuma's chest heaved. "They'll dig into her—they'll ruin her. I know how this sort of thing goes. It never turns out well for the complainant and she knows it and she's still doing it because she's distraught over Suzuha—because she thinks she's always losing—"

She kind of was, though. Yato cringed.

"And she can't take this kind of injustice. They really do treat her badly—the sexism is really—"

"So then, back her up," Kofuku said. "Eat. Don't waste my hard work"

Daikoku rolled his eyes. Yato obeyed. Kazuma sighed. The muffin was soft and sweet, cinnamon bursting onto his tongue.

"It's not going to be easy," Kazuma said. "The professors have all the power, and Fujisaki is lecturing now while a postdoc, so he's basically one of them."

"So talk to her instead of to me," Yato said. "I can't help you. She hates me for your idea for helping her last time."

"What was that?" asked Kofuku.

"Giving her cats away," said Yato. "They're all happy and in good homes, but—"

"Bisha can't turn down someone or something in need," said Kazuma. "She's just—it's what I love about her. She has endless compassion, but it—gets out of hand sometimes, and she winds up hurting what she wants to help—like if she'd lost her previous apartment—"

"Have you considered a magical spell known as communication?" asked Kofuku.

"Of course we talk!" Kazuma burst out.

Yato's phone buzzed. He frowned. And the muffin in his mouth turned into ash, the cinnamon into sand.

From an unknown number, an image of Hiyori. And Fujisaki. Kissing.

 _Fuck_. So this was his revenge. Yato felt nauseated. He shoved the plate away from him. It wasn't a huge deal. Hiyori should be able to make her own choices, but that-manipulative—he would just use her and—and—

"Yato, are you all right?" asked Kofuku.

"Huh?"

"You look like someone kicked a puppy," said Daikoku.

"The true conflict: Yato is a dog person and Bishamon a cat person," declared Kofuku. She giggled.

Kazuma moaned.

"Nothing is wrong," said Yato. "It's—fine." _Something I don't want to talk about._

Kofuku regarded him with her brows pinched. She nodded, as if accepting it.

"I don't know what you can do," said Daikoku. "She makes her own choices. And she's decided that just because something looks impossible doesn't mean it isn't worth trying, because she cares about herself and about the other people in her lab. And that boy who died—Suzuha—too."

"The entire college fosters an unhealthy environment," said Kazuma. "But I still want to learn, so—"

"If you came here asking me to report Fujisaki for being a terrible father, the answer is no, and it's irrelevant," Yato said immediately.

"He'll turn everyone against her," said Kazuma.

"I—"

Footsteps pounded on the stairs. They all fell silent. His door flung open, but it wasn't Yukine.

Bishamon stomped in. And _there_ was Yukine, behind her, face red. And— _Hiyori?_ Hiyori?

"Your kid was drinking at a college party," Bishamon informed him. "This girl wanted to escort him home, so I gave them a ride."

"It wasn't like that!" yelped Yukine. His eyes found Yato. His lip trembled. "Really, Yato, it—I had only a few sips—I didn't even like it—"

 _Fuck_. If Yukine was caught drinking by the police or by someone who reported it to them—which someone like Father would love to do—he could easily lose custody of him. Yato groaned. "Go to your room. We'll talk later." He had to square things with Hiyori first. And Bishamon.

Yukine didn't even protest. Damn, the kid must really feel guilty. Granted Yato kind of had no right to yell at him, but he had to. He had to explain, help him understand.

"Hi Yato," said Hiyori, waving. "I saw Yukine leaving, so I—"

"Take better care of him," said Bishamon. "Or else he'll turn out exactly like you and that's exactly what the world doesn't need."

Hiyori's jaw dropped. "What—"

"Don't worry; she just hates me as a hobby," said Yato, glaring at Bishamon. _I will be a good older brother and father for Yukine. I will be. I will._

"You gave away my cats! I only had seven, and you gave away six of them!" Bishamon's violet eyes filled with tears. "You are a thief and a—"

"What?" Hiyori asked again. She gaped at Yato.

" _I asked him to!"_

Yato spun around. Kazuma stood, fists clenched. "I asked him to, Bishamon. It was—my fault. You told me when we were studying together—that you might lose your apartment—I didn't want you to, so I found homes for all of them—I just wanted to protect you, not—"

"I can deal with my own consequences," Bishamon snapped. Her glare lasered Yato still, but shock stiffened her features.

"I know," said Kazuma miserably. "I just-I wanted to-I'm sorry." His breath caught. "But don't report Yato or Yukine, okay? Because I-asked him to help; it wasn't-"

"I wasn't going to." Bishamon jabbed her finger at Yato. "But still. You better-"

"Bishamon," said Kazuma again. "I'm sorry. If—if you want me to move out, I'd still pay rent. I mean, we—"

"I don't want you to move out," Bishamon said. "Of course not. I—" She stopped.

"Communication," whispered Kofuku with a wink. She rose. "Daikoku, we should go downstairs."

"And I'm going upstairs," said Bishamon. "I have work to do." She turned and marched out. Kazuma followed her.

"I should probably go," Hiyori said awkwardly. "But you suggested we get together, and then I hadn't seen you since—"

Yato had no idea what to say, and he knew Yukine was probably listening, ear pressed against his bedroom door. "I'm sorry."

"Was it the professor?" Hiyori tried.

 _How much should I tell her? If she knows_ _—if she_ _—_ He didn't want her to feel used. Even if that's exactly what was happening with Fujisaki and Nora, who no doubt sent that photo to him. "Yes."

But if he said nothing… Kofuku's advice lingered in his mind. And Kazuma actually came clean with Bishamon. Well, about that anyways. God knew if he'd ever said that he had feelings for her.

"You have a history?"

 _Hiyori…_ "He's my father." Yato grimaced. "Well, sort of. Not really. Foster father. Legally. He was, I mean. I'm an adult now."

Hiyori whitened. "He invited me to this party—"

"Let me guess. He's been hitting on you." Yato grabbed the phone and handed it to her.

"I didn't want to kiss him!" she yelped. "He just—he's creepy and I—"

"He won't stop," Yato said. "He's controlling. He hates that he can't control me. He'll control you to control me because he thinks you're my friend."

Hiyori blinked. "Aren't we?"

 _We only met a few times._

 _Okay, you saved my life, but_ —

 _I wish I could be that free_. Free to make friends, free to call anyone who was kind someone you wanted to get to know, free to laugh with them. But he carried inherent risks, simply because he had been raised by that man.

 _I don't know, really. But I want to be. If I could have friends, I'd want them to be like you._

Was that enough? Yato nodded. "I guess we are." _I hope we are._

"If I practice martial arts on him, he'll fail me, won't he?"

Yato snorted.

"I pushed him away," Hiyori said.

"Why?" asked Yato. "He's good-looking, and smart, and settled, and—"

"Because he's so full of himself, and he's my professor, and that's just wrong." Hiyori grabbed the throw pillow, squeezing it against her chest. "And I—remembered that you didn't seem to like him."

 _You were thinking of me?_

"Want to get dinner tomorrow?" Yato asked. "Or come for dinner. With Yukine and me. So it wouldn't be awkward." Why did his tongue feel like it was glued to his mouth? He sounded stupid.

 _I can suddenly no longer judge Kazuma._

 _No, I can. He's fun to judge._

"Sounds great," said Hiyori.

He sat down on the opposite end of the couch. "So. What was Yukine doing?"

"I am here; you can just ask me, you know!" called Yukine's muffled voice.

Yato smirked. "Come out of your room, then."

Yukine shuffled out. His eyes darted from Hiyori to Yato, and he sat on the desk chair. "I am sorry, Yato."

"You told me you were going out with friends."

"I was. She invited me to—"

Nora. He understood immediately. "She's—too much like my father."

"That girl?" asked Hiyori. "She seemed sweet."

"She's also his foster kid. Not my biological sister, but she's—" He swallowed. When he used to get in trouble, he would use Nora to do it. She'd cover or him. She helped him rehome the cats. She helped him do anything and everything he wanted, before he ran away.

Her confronting him at the schoo— _the way I used you was wrong, Nora._

 _I don't want to be that person anymore. I don't even want to remember that person, but_ _—but_ —

"She was nice tonight," said Yukine. "We were just painting; nothing—"

"I wasn't thinking that! Get your mind out of the gutter." Yato's face was scarlet. Yukine was way too young to be thinking of that kind of thing. "Did you—did you meet Fujisaki, at all?"

"I saw him kiss Hiyori," Yukine muttered.

"She set it up," Yato said bitterly. As he'd known from the moment the three of them walked into the apartment together. "All of that. The two of them—"

"That's so disgusting!" burst out Hiyori. "It's so—wrong!" She covered her mouth as if she was nauseated.

"I'm sorry," Yato whispered. Shame crushed his chest.

"Why?" Hiyori demanded. "It's not your fault! It's his, for being a—a—stupid dickhead—"

"Hey!" Yato gestured to Yukine.

"Yato, we say worse all the time," Yukine pointed out.

 _Hush, you!_ "Well, Hiyori didn't need to know that."

"Well, now she does." Yukine smirked.

Hiyori giggled.

"I am sorry, Yato," Yukine whispered. "I didn't know—I didn't—she was acting so nice, still prickly but like, I didn't think—"

"It's okay," said Yato quietly. "She's just a kid, too." He wished he could have any hope for Nora. But she was so much like their father.

He still remembered when he found her sobbing, a bruise on her face. " _Father said I was a bad girl!"_ Because she'd asked to tag along with him to meet with Sakura. And then—and then—she obeyed Father. Everything to get his attention again, everything to earn his approval, an apology for ever having doubted that she was a good girl.

"It really was only a sip or two," Yukine said. "I didn't like it."

"I've done worse at your age," Yato confessed. He glanced at Hiyori. She looked surprised, but she said nothing. "Not that it's an excuse. It's a lesson. Don't do that. It's a bad idea."

"I won't."

"If they catch you—if we got a surprise visit or it got reported, they could take you away," Yato said. He squeezed his fists together. "I don't—want that."

Yukine's eyes widened.

 _You're family._

 _I don't want to lose you._

 _No matter what it costs me._

He thought of Bishamon again, and felt sick.

* * *

"He'll come around," Father assured her, running his fingers through her hair. "I know it."

She hoped so. Until Yato was back with them, she felt like there was a gaping, bleeding hole in her home. And Father had so many more hours to work at the lab, and she missed having Yato around to help her with homework, to play with her even though she was sixteen and past the point of playing games in parks.

He called her _Hiiro_ , and she liked that name far more than Nora. Even more than Mizuchi. And then, after Kazuma hired him, he felt so guilty watching that blond girl cry, and he left even though she told him, she _told_ him, that he did not have to feel guilty, that it was okay, that he was just doing what he was hired to do, and she didn't feel guilty, so why should he?

But he looked down on her, looked at her the way most people looked at them, like dirty children, and he left.

But he didn't really look down on her. He was afraid of her, for some reason, and she couldn't put her finger on why.

She looked at the stick figure painting Yukine had at least attempted and tore it apart.

At school on Monday, she wasn't even surprised to feel a hand land on her shoulder. She whirled around.

"So you made it home okay," she said.

His eyes, the pretty ones that looked like rubies, glittered. "No thanks to you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You used me," he said. "To get to Yato. I know you sent a picture of your idiot father kissing Hiyori to upset him. You planned for me to see that, didn't you?"

She blinked. She didn't really expect him to pick up on all of that. "Is that why you ran out?"

"Don't pretend you cared." He huffed, turning on his heel and stalking away. Giggles erupted, and she realized their classmates were watching. Of course. They probably assumed the same thing as they always did.

It didn't matter. She had to text Father this. He would not be happy that Yukine was mad at her. They might need him again.

 _Not now Mizuchi,_ came his reply. _I have a larger problem._

 _Can I help?_ This was more important to her than learning trigonometry. Family mattered more, right?

She'd spent so long just begging the gods for one, and Father was her answer. She knew from the moment he took her home and Yato too, and they were together. She grew up without one and almost stopped wanting one, almost smothered the few roots of hope that had grown, until Father came and everything bloomed.

 _Yato, come back,_ she thought, waiting for Father to text back.

 _Bishamonten filed a complaint against me,_ Father responded. _For discrimination and harassment._

She froze. _Does that mean you'll be fired?_

 _Not if I fight it and win._

 _You will,_ she assured him. She couldn't fathom the thought of Father being fired. What if they couldn't afford their home then?

"Nora," said her teacher, and she hated him for using the name she hated. "Why are you looking down at your lap like that?"

"Maybe she has crabs," whispered one of their classmates, and she contemplated spitting at them.

"Phone, please." The teacher held out his hand.

She scowled but handed it over. _Father_ _—Father_ —would he be mad, if he couldn't reach her?

She had to talk to Yato. Bishamon wouldn't listen to her; she hated her for being associated with Yato, but maybe if they got all of her cats back-maybe-

"Go away," yelled Yukine as she followed him home. He hadn't joined her for lunch that day, and she couldn't help but scowl at it even though she had her quiet spot back.

"I need to talk to Yato," she called out.

"You really don't!"

"I do!"

He broke into a run. She sprinted after him. He didn't know she'd been on the track team in middle school. She grabbed his sleeve.

"Hey!"

"Please," she begged. "I really do need to-just one conversation, please, Yukine. Bishamon is trying to get Father fired and—"

"Yeah, because he's a dick."

"He's not! You don't even know him!" She stomped her foot.

"You're absolutely hopeless and crazy."

"You're stupid and a child."

"So are you, dumbass."

Her throat clogged. "Please."

"Crocodile tears, boo hoo." Yukine yanked his elbow out of her grip, stalking down the street.

She wiped at her eyes. "I love Father! And Yato. I don't want to hurt—I need to—Yukine—"

"You do hurt him, though," he snapped.

He really wasn't going to listen. Not today. She clenched her fists. She couldn't fail. She didn't want Father to be angry, or hurt. She wanted him to be okay like she wanted Yato to be okay because she needed them okay because they were her family and she loved them and they loved her—

 _Why you? Why does Yato love you?_

 _Why does Yato love you more?_

 _I hate you!_

"Then can you ask Yato to talk to Bishamon?" she called out, her voice wavering. It echoed through the streets.

He turned around. "Maybe I don't want Yato or Hiyori hurt anymore. Or Bishamon."

"She doesn't even like you if you're associated with Yato." Her eyes stung. "Tell Yato I can get the cats back?"

"Aren't they with new owners who probably love them?" Yukine stretched his arms above his head. "Some things you can't undo, Nora."

 _I hate that name_. It wasn't even her name. She didn't remember her family. All she remembered was that people would call her that, and one icy January afternoon she fell into a river, and when they fished her out alive, and they asked her her name, she didn't even know what to say besides what she heard people calling her. _Nora_. A stray.

He left her standing on the side of the street.


	5. Into a Trap

A mug of tea slammed down on the desk across from him. Long purple nails scraped the handle as if trying to peel the paint off.

 _Oh, fuck._ Yato craned his neck up. "Yes?"

Bishamon dragged a chair over to the desk, uninvited. But then, why would she presume she needed an invite? It wasn't like that was common decency. It wasn't like Yato had an astrophysics exam tomorrow and needed to study until his eyes bled this afternoon because he would not be studying this evening because he was getting dinner with Hiyori because—

"Kazuma and I talked," said Bishamon, folding her arms across her chest. Her fingers drummed on the wooden desk in the library. Someone coughed from behind one of the dusty bookshelves. Pages rattled.

"And?" Yato somehow doubted it was what Kazuma should probably talk to her about.

"He told me that he hired you to rehome my cats."

Yato rolled his eyes. "Yes, I was there for that part."

Bishamon scowled. "I don't forgive you, you know. I don't care what he arranged; you still did it, you and that girl."

"Yep," said Yato. "I did." _And I'm sorry._ But there was no point in apologizing. He didn't even know how, when there was nothing he could give back.

"They were like my children," Bishamon said sadly. "I only had seven and you rehomed six of them. It wasn't a dirty apartment or a reeking one; it—"

"I know," Yato said. "Kazuma just didn't want you to wind up homeless."

"I could have handled my landlord." Bishamon took a swig of tea. The spiced smell of chai met Yato's nose. "You know that, right? Or do you think I'm some helpless—"

"Not hardly; you beat me at rock climbing every single time and I'm still angry." He was trying to joke. An apology when he couldn't word one.

Bishamon smirked as if it was a pleasant memory for her.

"How about Kazuma?" asked Yato. "Are you still—"

"I don't understand why 'she might have to move' means 'cut her off from her cats, the creatures that help her relax and smile,'" Bishamon pointed out. "Seems a pretty drastic counter, doesn't it?"

Yato reached for his own coffee mug. Empty. _Fuck_.

"That's not going to get you off the hook this time, Yato." Bishamon moved his empty coffee mug away from him.

"Why don't you ask Kazuma?"

"I did, and he looked as if he would kill himself if I asked again, so I'm asking you." Her voice resonated with something dark. "Don't lie to me again."

Yato glowered at her.

She shut his laptop. "Want me to throw your book out so you can't study next? Because I will."

He rolled his eyes. "You won't like the answer."

"What did your father do?"

"Nothing," Yato snapped, the coffee he'd been drinking stinging his stomach. Too much caffeine. Too much acid. "It had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you." _Isn't anything ever your fault?_

Her eyes darkened.

Guilt assailed him. He swallowed. "Sorry."

She said nothing. Waiting.

"You and I both know you couldn't afford to move. Or at least, that's what Kazuma said. How much money did you give that friend who was in a car accident? Ebisu?"

Bishamon looked off to the side. A couple made out in a corner. She wrinkled her nose.

"It's not connected to my father," said Yato. "Contrary to what he thinks, not everything in the world leads back to him, and I can't help you out in your little revenge quest except to say that if you file against him, you'll be playing directly into his hands."

"So what?" asked Bishamon. "It's the right thing to do."

"What about your own life?"

"I consider justice important as part of my life." Bishamon tossed her hair. Her face flamed. "So why did you—"

"Kazuma paid me." And he was desperate at that time. Desperate to afford an apartment of his own, to escape his father, to find a place to live, any place, to get out of that goddamn house. If he lived on the opposite side of town, Fujisaki could never find him, and he could reinvent himself, try to feel out who he wanted to be. Someone who helped people instead of hurting people, that much he knew.

Did it matter if to get that, he hurt someone?

Nora helped him. He called her _Hiiro_ then, a name she liked. And now she was trying to hurt him and calling it love. And he knew when he left her what she would become, and he knew she wouldn't come with him, would stop him from leaving, because she still wanted to believe in Father, believe she was loved and rescued when really Father would throw her away if he had no use for her. But her perfect obedience and desire to please played right into his hands.

He hoped she avoided Yukine from here on out. But knowing Father… probably not.

"You're a bit of a coward," Bishamon informed him. She grabbed her mug and her purse, stalking off.

 _Fine_. _Then I'll be a coward. At least I'm not so horrible, not anymore._ Being a coward was the least of the things he was afraid of being.

Yato grabbed his phone, texting Kazuma. _What the fuck, man. Warn me next time._

 _Sorry._

 _Did she forgive you at the very least?_

 _I think so? I'm not sure. I still feel bad. But it was the right thing to do._

Or he could have just asked her. Yato rubbed his chin. _Tell her you love her yet?_

 _Isn't it better not to be with someone, if you think you'll hurt them?_ Kazuma responded.

Yato swallowed. That was not what he wanted to even consider before his date with Hiyori. And he still had to study. He had to improve himself.

He made it to the quad on campus where they'd agreed to meet two minutes late. But she was waiting there under a tree, sitting on a bench. She grinned when she saw him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey." She rose. "So, are we going to your place?"

Yato rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, but we need to get groceries first." He wishes he could afford to take her out for a super nice dinner at a fancy restaurant with porcelain dishes instead of the chipped ones they had in their cabinets, but he couldn't. Fortunately he didn't think Hiyori would mind.

"Sounds good." Hiyori sighed. "I heard Bishamon officially filed today."

"Did she really?" And it was already out? Those things were supposed to be confidential, but of course, they never really were.

"Yeah," said Hiyori. "Someone in my lit class was saying she was just doing it to get attention. They called her a whore because of how she dresses."

"Tell them to stick their words where the son doesn't shine," Yato suggested. Though he'd probably called Bishamon something similar in the past. He cringed.

Hiyori rolled her eyes. "How did you two meet?"

"She was my TA first year," said Yato. "And then we were friendly, until like, the cat incident."

Hiyori frowned. "Why did you—"

 _If I told you everything, you probably won't like me very much anymore_. "It's a long story."

Hiyori shut her mouth, but she looked annoyed.

He exhaled.

"Kazuma wanted to protect her, right?" asked Hiyori. "That's not really protection, if the person you're closest with is hurting you under the guise of protecting you. Because then you're still getting hurt."

Yato swallowed. "True."

They arrived at the grocery store, and Yato tried to follow the ingredient list Kofuku had given him. She looked like she had been crying again when he asked her for advice, but he was too nervous to ask just what was wrong.

Hiyori laughed, ripping the list away from him. She darted around the store, him following. This was going to be fun.

Until he heard a voice behind him. "Well, you two look like you're having a fun time!"

Hiyori whirled around. Yato glared.

Father stood there, beaming. "Fancy meeting one of my students here. And an ex-student."

"Where's Nora?" asked Yato.

"So sad, Yoboku. She liked it when you called her Hiiro."

Yato stepped back. Hiyori's eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't you be busy putting together some form of defense? Are you going to be banned from the lab soon?"

Father frowned, picking up a bottle of sesame oil and rolling it around between his fingers. "It's not that serious, and it's all lies."

Hiyori kept glancing between Yato and Father, her frown deepening.

"I'll see you in class, Hiyori."

"You leave her alone," Yato called, finding his voice.

"Oh?" He spun around, shoes squeaking on the tiled floor. His shadow stretched down the aisle, trapping Yato in it. "Yoboku, I—"

"My name is Yato," he said.

"Not legally."

"Yes, legally. I got it changed last summer." He produced his license. "See?"

"All right, Yoboku."

"He just asked you not to call him that," Hiyori managed, speaking for the first time.

"He's my son."

"Not really," said Yato. He turned away.

"If you think you can conspire with that blonde slut to—" A smack echoed. Fujisaki let out a yelp. Yato spun around to see Hiyori clocking him across the nose. He doubled over, blood pouring from his nostrils, dripping crimson through his fingers and spattering onto the floor.

"Oops," whispered Hiyori. People let out shouts. A clerk came running.

 _Fuck!_ Yato grabbed her arm, dragging her out of the store and onto the street. Golden clouds simmering in a peach and scarlet sky, sweating droplets of tangerine onto them. She was shaking. "Did I just punch him?"

Yato shrugged. "You broke his nose, probably."

"My parents will be so pleased martial arts came in handy," Hiyori remarked. Yato stopped. She was actually laughing. But her eyes were terrified. "Is he going to call the police?"

"That's why we're getting out of here."

"I'm a—" Hiyori doubled over, shaking.

"I'm sorry," whispered Yato. "He's—"

"Going to fail me," whispered Hiyori.

"He actually might not be able to," Yato mused. "Since he'll be watched carefully because of Bishamon's—"

"I don't even care. Then I'll take it next semester too." Hiyori studied the blood on her knuckles. A strange look crossed her face—guilt? Pride? Both? "Let's find a new grocery store."

They made it back to the apartment loaded with ingredients. Yato twisted the key, unlocking it. The apartment was dark.

Hiyori's brow creased. A sick feeling crept through Yato. "Yukine's not home yet?"

* * *

He was sitting alone again, but not with her. He sat inside with everyone around him, but still alone.

She scowled. It'd at least been nice to have someone not whispering that she was a slut. While it lasted, anyways. And it was now over.

She couldn't give up, though. Yukine was her best link to Yato, and Yato was linked to Bishamon and Kazuma, and if anyone could help Father, Yato could.

She remembered Yato screaming, the day they found out that teacher had killed herself. He had gripped his skull, sobbing, uncontrolled and desperate, and she tried to hug him, and he pushed her away. " _I have to get away."_

" _You don't have to!" she protested. "It's not your fault, Yoboku, it's not. I'm here. Father is here. You're not alone." She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his shaking shoulder blade. They weren't alone anymore. That was the thing she liked most about the house they lived in. The knowledge that even though she could lie awake in her little room, unable to sleep, others were sleeping, breathing around her. She wasn't outside._

" _She's dangerous, Mizuchi," Father had said later, when she told Father what Yoboku had said. "That woman was trying to steal Yoboku away from us, planting dangerous ideas in his mind." He stroked her hair. "But she's gone now, so you don't need to worry."_

But then not a few months later, she came home from school to find that Yoboku had packed his bags and patted her on the head, telling her he was leaving. And the way he looked at her—it was with the same gentleness he always did. The look she craved now. But looking back, there were embers of something else, too. There had been ever since Sakura. A kind of fear, something dangerously close to the way she'd always been looked at since she was a little girl digging through a steaming pile of trash to find a half-rotted apple and eat it, like her classmates looked at her now. Like she was dangerous, something they never wanted to acknowledge even existed never mind had anything in common with.

But she and Yato had that history in common.

" _My name isn't Yoboku. It's Yato."_

" _Why?" she asked._

" _I like it better."_

Well, she liked _Hiiro_ better than _Nora_ , and still she was just Nora to him now.

"Yukine," she tried, approaching him. Talking to him in the cafeteria was like asking for him to receive bullying as well, but if she had Yato back she could take it. He taught her to defend herself. And so Yukine wouldn't really have an issue with it.

"What do you want?" he asked, removing his headphones.

She took that as an invitation, plopping down at the seat across from him. "If I write a note, will you give it to Yato?"

"You're still on that? What, are you in love with him or something? It's creepy." Yukine rolled his eyes and went to put his headphones back in his ears.

"No!" She glared. "I just—I don't want—if Father gets in trouble, he says they can take me away." And the possibility sent shivers through her body, coiled snakes around her spine. "I don't want to lose him. I've already lost Yato."

He pulled the headphones out again. "I don't trust you. I can't trust you. You—"

Her lip jutted out. "But—" _Please. Please, I can't lose someone_ _—I_ —

"Do you ever think of anyone besides yourself?" he demanded. "You're literally obsessed with what you want without thinking of what Yato wants."

 _Which is_ —

 _Not me._

 _He wants_ you _as his little sibling instead._ A tear wormed its way into her eye. She blinked it back.

 _I hate you so much._

"Isn't your father's plan to slut shame Bishamon now? Or does he even know how people regard you at school? Or does he not care? Doesn't that make him the same as the assholes at this school?"

She blinked. "You mean you don't think they're right?"

"I don't know and I don't care. I just think they're jerks. Unless you dumped soda on yourself." Yukine's eyes widened. "Did—"

She shook her head. "Father loves me. He takes care of me."

Yukine focused on the fraying edges of his shoes. "Sorry, Nora."

 _I hate that name._

 _I hate Mizuchi, too, except Father gave it to me, so I like that part of it._

 _Yato, why did you become Yato?_

* * *

Yukine shuddered as he sat in class. He needed to pay attention to trigonometry, they had a test soon, and yet his notebook stayed blank, noteless. All he could think of was that he hated the people who were like him the most.

Like Nora. Her insistence that Father loved her, about how she didn't want to be taken away dumped salt on a wound not quite scabbed over. He shifted, glancing at her. She stared out the window, expression blank.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Yukine stuffed his books into his locker and slung his bag over his shoulder. Hiyori was supposed to be coming over that night. He had spent the night before teasing Yato about it.

"Hey, Yukine?" ventured a voice.

He spun. It wasn't Nora. Mutsumi, a quiet girl, stood there, wringing her skirt in her hands. "Yeah?"

"I think your friend might be in some trouble."

"My friend?" He cussed internally. _Nora…_

"They were talking about taking her to the basement and locking her in."

"What? Why?"

Mutsumi shrugged. "I think she yelled at one of the girls in the bathroom earlier today."

Yukine wanted to kick his locker. He had to find her, didn't he? Or he could just leave her—this was probably another trap— _oh, fucking hell._ He turned and hurried down the stairs towards the basement, the place where the art supplies were. It wouldn't be hard to get Nora to go down there…

"Nora?" he called. He sidestepped a dented file cabinet. The storage area was creepy as hell. Sheets draped old dressers and piles and piles of faded textbooks lined the walls. The only light leaking in came from the stairwell.

"Yeah?" She appeared behind a stack of desks, arms loaded with boxes of charcoals and pastels.

 _See, she's fine._ As he knew she would be. He scowled.

"Did you change your mind? I have the note written out; I can—"

"No, I—"

The door shut behind them. A click.

"What?" yelped Yukine.

"Hey!" shrieked Nora. A crash. She must have bumped into something. Yukine thrust his hand out. It collided with a dusty tarp.

"Hey!" he bellowed. He almost tripped and crashed into a desk. "Ow!"

Something grabbed his arm. He screamed.

"It's just me!" snapped Nora. She held up her phone, using its flashlight.

Yukine winced, hobbling. That desk had bruised his thigh for sure. He grabbed the door and jiggled the handle. It didn't open, as he knew.

 _Fuck!_

"Call someone," he said, yanking out his phone.

No service.

 _The fuck?_

Panic rose in Yukine's throat. He felt like another time-with another place—voices even more malevolent—earth—"Let me out!" He slammed his fists against the door. "Hey! Hey! Let us out!" The cries ripped from his throat. White-hot panic shot through his veins. Breathe, he had to breathe. Except the walls seemed like they were closing in and she was closing in and the stupid storage was closing in and he was just another thing in this collection. He needed to get out. Get out. Breathe again. In. Out. But— _help me, I don't want to be trapped down here! I don't! I don't! Stop!_

 _Why?_

 _Dad? Mom?_

 _Why?_

"Yukine!"

She was calling his name. He clamped his hands over his ears.

A door, closing—moist earth—the smell of moss after rain—

"Yukine!" A slap.

He staggered backwards, into a wall. He gulped. He still could. His cheek stung.

"Someone will come for us," Nora assured him. She gripped his shoulders. "I know they will. We don't have service, but Yato—and Father—they'll both come for us. I know it, okay?" A serene smile played with her lips.

He wished he could have that kind of faith. Yukine trembled from head to toe. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to-not-

"Calm down," Nora said again. "You're claustrophobic, aren't you?"

 _That's one way of putting it._ "Yeah. I guess."

"We just have to sit here and wait," she said. "They'll come for us. I promise." She tugged on his jacket. "We just have to sit here and wait."

"I'm not good at that," he mumbled. He let her pull him down. The floor was chilled. He shuddered.

"I have nightmares about water," said Nora.

"Huh?" He looked at her.

"I have nightmares about water," she said again. "I don't panic, but I have dreams about it. Because of something that happened once, like you with tight spaces." She pulled her knees up to her chest. "I almost drowned when I was younger. So Father made me swim a lot, so now I'm not scared. Maybe this can help you."

He didn't want to discuss this. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be. It just was."

"I think I'm allowed to be sad that you almost drowned. It's not normal to have no emotions besides obsession."

She glared at him. "Why are you sad? You hate me. I can tell. You believe everything they say about me and then some. You think I'm some kind of demonic siren."

"Like those bird creatures?"

Nora's jaw dropped. "So you're stupid as well."

"And you're proving yourself meaner and meaner," he pointed out.

"Don't talk to me. They'll be here soon. I know it." Nora turned away from him. She opened the pastels.

"Fine." He hoped she was right. His teeth bit into his knuckles.

 _Yato, please come before her father does._


	6. Peeled Away

Yukine checked his phone again. Nothing. Not a single bar of service. He contemplated walking around the basement, looking for something, anything, but the concept of unfolding his limbs, getting up, and walking around in the dark made him want to vomit. Their phones' weak flashlights weren't enough. Teh darkness still crept closer, breathing down his neck.

The sound of water dripping from a pipe echoed. Plink. Plink. Plink. Like it was counting the seconds. Yukine checked the time. Surely Yato would have noticed he was missing by now.

What if the police found out? What if they took him away as a result of this? It would figure. It just would. The darkness was always taking him away from everything and everyone he wanted to hold onto. Yukine pressed his mouth against his knee. His teeth scraped the fabric, pressing into the skin underneath as he tried not to scream.

Why did the kids have to be like this? What did he even do? Hell, what did Nora even do? Did they hate her that much? _If you're worried about her stealing your boyfriends maybe consider that they're asshats if they can't keep themselves faithful! She's not a witch! She can't put a spell on them!_

The anger at least felt familiar. But it was tiring, like a heavy box he had to carry up the stairs, and he wasn't sure he had the energy to carry it anymore. Yato wasn't here to help him. Yukine squeezed his calves tight enough to leave bruises.

"What did happen?" Nora asked.

"Nothing."

Silence. Their breaths echoed, mirroring each other. The water, clinking. Yukine shivered. "What if they aren't coming?"

"Father will come. He has to. I know it." Nora sounded like a religious follower. Yukine cracked his eyes open. She leaned against a half-empty bookshelf, her phone and its flashlight aimed away from her, at him. "And Yato will come too. He cares, right? About you?"

"I—" Yukine's words caught in his throat.

 _Do you?_ What if he wouldn't anymore? What if he assumed he and Nora set this all up? What if he assumed Yukine was just being irresponsible? What if—what if— "He does," he eked out.

 _Please_. He didn't want to doubt Yato.

"You love Yato," observed Nora.

"Huh?" He peered at her. At least the whie of her school uniform wasn't black, like everything around them. "Yeah. He's my nii-san."

"I love Yato too," said Nora. "He's my nii-san." Her voice trembled.

"And what, I took him away?" Yukine asked sarcastically. Now he had a target for that anger. "You know, Yato and I only met a few months ago. We—"

"I know." Nora leaned her head back against the bookshelf. She coughed, as if dust had filtered down or something. "Him and Father. I love them. I never knew what a family was until I had them."

Yukine said nothing. He bit down on his knuckles. Her words hit a little close to home.

"Don't you want—"

"Stop," Yukine said, voice ragged. "Just stop. I know what you're trying to do, okay? Do you ever take a break from trying to manipulate and—"

"What—"

"If they find out I'm gone, they could take me away from Yato," said Yukine. "They could—for the drinking as well—you knew that, didn't you? You want—"

"Just shut up," said Nora.

"Don't you worry about that at all?" he demanded. Tears stung his eyes. "Don't you? Or are you so confident in your fucking father that—"

"You know I do!"

"Then why did you—don't you have any empathy?"

"I didn't think—"

"Don't give me that! You thought it! You think, but only about you!"

"Well, someone's got to!" Nora glared at him. "Father—Father—" Her voice caught. "I hate you!"

"Well, good," said Yukine. "Because I hate you, too."

"Fine then!"

"Fine!"

Minutes ticked by. Yukine wanted to scream. Hot, cold-anger, despair—Yato—a cold box—earth—it all built up inside him. He felt sick, like all these contradictions were strangling him. _Please come. Please come for me._

 _Yato_ —

The light went out. Or one of them. Yukine sucked in his breath, pulling his knees into his chest.

"My phone's dead," Nora said.

 _I don't even know if I can believe you_! "You probably turned it off."

She threw her phone at him. It smacked the floor. He pressed the on button. It didn't work.

"You're no different than everyone else at this fucking school," said Nora. "Everyone else besides Father and Yato. You always think the worst of me." She sniffled.

"I'm the one locked down here with you," he pointed out. Her words stung. "Why do they hate you so much?"

"I know you heard the rumors," Nora said. "That I'm a slut. I sleep with all the teachers and all the people I can to get what I want from them. I'm basically a prostitute, but for attention and favors instead of money—most of the time." Her voice sounded dark.

Yukine cringed.

"None of it's true," she whispered.

He squinted at her, now just a shadowy figure huddled against a bookcase meters away from him.

"I'm not like that at all. Father—he's asked me to talk to people, and I do try to get favors from them, but not—I've never—I'm a virgin. I'm not like that at all. But no one cares about the truth. I only wanted people to—when I do things for them, they smile at me, and it's like they like me, and no one—they—it's still not enough. They don't like me. No one does. Everyone acted like they did at first until I realized they were faking it, but I still kept—I just want—" Nora's voice broke.

Yukine didn't know what to say.

"Still no one wants me." She slammed her fist against the concrete floor. "Father will come. He _will_. I know it." It sounded like a desperate prayer.

"I'm sorry," whispered Yukine.

"Huh?"

He rubbed his fingers through the grit on the floor. "I don't—I didn't know whether it was true or not—"

"You thought it might be true?" Nora sounded shocked. "And you still went to that party? Or did you think you would get lucky?" Now she was angry.

Well, he wasn't going to take this from her. "Can you accept that maybe I wanted to be your friend? Maybe I didn't want to use you, and maybe it didn't matter to me whether it was true or not so long as—as—maybe I didn't want anything but a friend!"

She was gaping. "You're a fool."

"Gee, thanks."

"But not how I thought you were." She gulped. "You mean—you would have wanted to be my friend even if I was a slut?"

"Isn't that—"

"I don't understand," said Nora.

"But then you tried to—you—" Yukine wiped at his eyes. "You hurt—"

"I'm sorry," Nora whispered.

Surprise hit him. "You are?"

"Wouldn't you try to do anything— _anything_ —to protect someone you love?" asked Nora. "Like with Yato—he's all I have—he and Father—when Father asked me to invite you to that party, to make you see him kissing that girl, it was just to—-I wanted to because I wanted to be with them again."

"Yato's the first person I've known who loves me," Yukine said.

His phone went out.

 _Fuck_. The darkness seized him, wrapping its arms in a chokehold around him. He gagged, struggling to breathe through the sludge that was the inky—

"It's okay," a voice said next to him. "I'm here." She placed a hand on his elbow.

 _Nora, my parents buried me alive. Or tried to. In a drug-fueled craze._

 _Nora, I'm always being thrown away._

"I almost drowned because I loved water," she told him. "I was fascinated by it. My family—I never had one, so—I got too close one day, but someone rescued me. I had to be resuscitated. And even though I have nightmares about it, I still—like it. Because at the very least it showed someone cared enough to save my life."

"I hate the dark," Yukine croaked out. He couldn't process what Nora was saying. "I just want to—escape."

"We will," Nora assured him.

"What if we're stuck here till tomorrow morning?"

"Then we'll get those bullies in trouble and you'll have to deal with a lot of rumors about me."

He scoffed. "I'll set them straight."

"Won't help. People believe what they want."

 _You are describing yourself_.

"My parents hated me," Yukine said. "I was—a burden to them." His words clogged his throat. "I don't—want to talk about it."

"Okay," Nora agreed. "Wanna play Shiratori?"

Was she actually trying to help him? Yukine opened his mouth.

A crunch.

Outside the door. And a thud. A clap.

"Someone's coming!" yelped Nora.

"Hey!" Yukine bellowed. Nora grabbed him by his wrist, pulling him to his feet. She joined him in yelling. They tried to make their way towards the door, but crashed over a desk.

"Ow!" complained Nora.

"Sorry, I—"

A knock against the door.

"Let us out!" Yukine bellowed. The handle rattled. Yukine grappled for it. It had to be here somewhere—or not. Maybe it was an invisible handle. That'd be just his fucking luck.

"Please!" Nora cried. "Father—"

"I bet it's Yato," he hissed.

"I don't care!"

The door flung open and light, glorious light, flooded the room. Yukine gaped up. Nora's jaw dropped.

"Well," said Kazuma. "I thought this was a long shot, but it appears I've found you."

* * *

"Why do I need to help you again?" snapped Bishamon.

"Do you want them to take Yukine away from me, leave another kid lost and alone?" snapped Yato. The beautiful day was giving way into a stormy night. Thunder rumbled. Karuha hissed, but then spotted Hiyori and sauntered over to her, purring and wrapping around her ankles. Bishamon's face softened.

"I'll help, Bisha," said Kazuma quietly, appearing from his room.

"I'll help, too," Bishamon agreed.

"I'll go to Fujisaki's," said Hiyori.

"By yourself?" squawked Yato. "No. He'll be—"

"Someone's got to check out whether Yukine is with Nora, though. And I just punched him, so I think I can—"

"I should go with you." If Father had planned for this, he would—

"I'll look on campus," said Bishamon.

"High school," said Kazuma.

"Kofuku will watch the apartment," said Yato, texting her. "Everyone, call if you find him."

Clouds cloaked the sliver of moon, leaving him reliant on streetlights. Yato winced. "Sorry, Hiyori."

"Not a problem," she answered. "You're basically his dad, that's how this works. Kids first."

 _Kids first…_ "Yeah," he said. "I guess." He'd never experienced that. But that is what he was aiming for with Yukine, after all.

 _I want you to be a kid. I want you to grow up not a moment too soon and not a moment too late._

But he wouldn't be perfect, would he?

 _I still have to try._

They arrived outside of Fujisaki's residence, taking the bus and getting off, crossing a small walking bridge. "Not a word that he's missing," Yato ground out.

Hiyori nodded. She hesitated, and then darted across the lawn ahead of Yato. "Hey!"

She pounded on the door. Fujisaki opened it. His eye was blackened. No, _both_ of his eyes were blackened.

"Professor Fujisaki!" gasped out Hiyori. She bowed her head. "I wanted to apologize. I should not have punched you, and I—"

"Wanted to beg me not to press assault charges?" Fujisaki snorted, though Yato recognized the slick satisfaction in his tone. People begging him was Fujisaki's aesthetic.

Hiyori swallowed. "I—"

"I don't think so," Fujisaki informed her, a smile playing with his lips. Yato lurked in the shadows, and his gaze found him. The smirk widened. "I hear your father's hospital isn't doing terribly well. I wonder how it would affect his work if it got out his beloved daughter was arrested for assault. I think that might push your grandmother's weak heart over the edge, wouldn't it? And not to mention your poor brother. The baby sister he—"

"Don't you dare threaten my family," Hiyori snapped.

"Why not? You're threatening mine." Fujisaki nodded at Yato. "Going to say hello, Yoboku?"

"Where's your daughter?" Hiyori asked.

"Where's your son, Yato?"

 _You_ —

"Fuck off," said Yato. "Don't you dare—"

"I will." Fujisaki slammed the door in Hiyori's face.

She turned to face Yato, face white. "Will he—"

He didn't know what to say.

"Help me," Hiyori managed. "Please, help me."

He couldn't imagine Hiyori with a criminal record. Not to mention having punched a professor. She'd be banned from campus. Panic coiled inside him. It was all because of him, because everything he touched was poisoned, because he was toxic, because Father had made each and every cell of him that way.

Escape was an illusion. But he still wanted it. He still—

Rain pattered his head. _I don't know how to help you._

 _I just know that I do_ — _I need to_ —

His phone buzzed. Kazuma.

 _FOUND THEM._

 _"Them?"_ Yato said icily.

* * *

Yato scrambled home, Hiyori on his heels. He burst into the apartment to see Yukine sitting on the couch, Kazuma behind him and Bishamon looking pleased.

"You're okay!" Yato burst out. He rushed towards Yukine, grabbing him in a hug. "I thought you were—geez." He pulled back. "What happened? You were at the school?"

Yukine looked shocked that Yato had given him that hug. He swallowed.

"I found him and Nora locked in the basement," said Kazuma.

Yato stiffened. _Could she have set that up_? "What?"

"There are bullies in our class," said Yukine. "I didn't—there was no service, and then our phones died. It was dark." He gritted his teeth.

"People have been bullying you?" Yato contemplated a few strategic punches. Or Hiyori.

"What happened?" asked Hiyori.

"Why is everyone here?" Yukine questioned. "I didn't—"

"We all wanted to find you," said Hiyori. "Yato was scared."

"Hey," he snapped. He stuffed his fists into the pockets of his jeans. Bishamon regarded Yukine with a solemn look on her face.

"Oh." Yukine swallowed. He huddled into himself. "And no, they're not bullying me exactly. Just Nora, calling her a slut. Someone told me they were gonna lock her in the basement 'cause it's where the art supplies are, and I went down to warn her, and they locked me in too."

Yukine couldn't have liked being trapped in a confined space like that. Yato dropped down next to him, slinging his arm around him. "I'm sorry."

"I'm glad you came," said Yukine, exhaling. "Nora thought her father would come, and I didn't want to see him."

Yato exchanged a glance with Hiyori, who shook her head. Nora would probably tell him that they'd gone to see him, but they didn't need to get into it now. And of course, the prick hadn't left his house. Did he trust Nora to take care of herself or just not give a fuck? Or trust that she was working for his interests no matter what? "Did you take her home?" he asked Kazuma.

"I put her in a taxi."

Yato exhaled. He didn't like the idea of people calling Nora those names. She had enough to deal with. But he didn't know how to help her without getting dragged into whatever maelstrom Father was whipping up and drowning himself.

"'Kay," said Bishamon. "The least you could do now is invite us for dinner."

Hiyori laughed. "Sure."

"I'll go talk to Kofuku," said Yato, heading down the stairs. He paused on the staircase. Hiyori was laughing with Bishamon, and Yukine and Kazuma's voices echoed as if they were having fun talking, too. And his mind echoed with Father's threat. If he actually followed through and had Hiyori arrested.

He would. He totally and completely would, just to fuck with Yato. And Hiyori would pay the price.

 _Even when I'm not trying to hurt people anymore-even when I'm trying_ not _to_ — _they still get hurt._

He just wanted to purge this poison from himself. He wanted to be free, and he never would be.

Yato knocked on the door. Kofuku opened it and beamed when she saw him. "Yato! I heard you found him!"

He spotted tear tracks on her face, smeared makeup around her eyes. Yato's chest clenched. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, stepping back to let him in.

"Where's Daikoku?"

Kofuku adjusted a vase with orchids standing on a small table. "He's out picking up dinner."

"Well, tell him to come home. Everyone who helped gets to eat at our place today, providing it's edible."

Kofuku smiled. She pulled out her phone to text. "You don't look very happy despite having him back, Yato."

Yato let out his breath. "Don't change the subject."

"There's not much to talk about." Kofuku lifted her shoulders. "The doctors aren't sure it'll be possible for Daikoku and I to have a child."

 _Oh_. Yato's face reddened. And still he thought how unfair, that people like—whoever gave birth to him, the monsters who tried to murder Yukine, the ones who threw Nora away—were able to have children, and people like Kofuku and Daikoku, good people, kind people, could not.

 _Nothing in this world is fair._ "I'm sorry," Yato said.

Kofuku managed a small smile. "It's okay. We're looking to adopt; that's still an option."

Yato nodded. "You two would be great parents." If he had only been taken in by people like them instead of like Father… if only Nora had, too.

"So what's wrong with you?" asked Kofuku. "What did he say?"

She really was like a mom to him.

Maybe… maybe it isn't too late. Yato's heart leaped. Even though he was an adult, trying to raise Yukine on his own—maybe—if— "He threatened Hiyori."

"Not surprised." Kofuku let out her breath.

"I keep thinking about Kazuma," said Yato, wringing his hands behind his back so she couldn't see. "He would probably break up with Bishamon if they actually were dating if there was any danger to her—and I—I should probably do the same, don't you think? Not that Hiyori and I are dating, exactly. But I shouldn't let things go further. Even as friends."

Kofuku lifted out one of the orchids, holding it to her nose and breathing. The ivory matched her skin. "Can you tell me why you don't believe you deserve to be happy, Yato?"

His breath caught. _Happiness?_

What was—he—

He only wanted to be free. Maybe then, that would make him happy. At least he would be alive then, able to direct his own life. "I—can't let my happiness hurt anyone else."

 _I can't be like Father._

 _I won't be. He used me. He uses Nora to make himself happy, accomplish his own objectives. We are nothing more than tools to him._

 _I don't know what to do._


	7. Tightrope

Her phone lit up as she curled up on her bed. From Yukine. _Are you okay?_

 _Yes_ , she texted back. So he actually did care. Or so it seemed. She wasn't certain what to do with that. She tapped her phone against her lips.

" _I'm glad you're okay," Father had said when she darted into the house, rattling off her explanation for why she was late. Not that he was concerned, because he trusted her. "Were you alone?"_

" _No, I was with Yukine," she said as she got antibiotic cream and an ice pack for Father's nose. She felt a surge of anger at Yukine and Yato for letting that stupid girl near Father. He didn't deserve the broken nose._

" _I hope you made good use of your time."_

 _She nodded, and something wriggled in the back of her mind._ Did you know?

Every single moment of her life, she had to be alert, be ready, be useful. She had to honor Father, because he was the one to whom she owed her life. Not to the random people who pulled her out of the river that cold day, but to him, because he gave her a roof over her head, ramen in her belly, money for lipstick and a brother, too. She slapped her thigh. She hadn't been thinking of that when she was locked in the basement with Yukine. But surely she could use what they had talked about, couldn't she?

Father then went to the police station to file a report on Iki Hiyori. She bit down on her phone, wondering if that would be enough for Yukine to snap at her again, hate her. Would that even be best, though?

No.

She didn't want him to hate her, and it wouldn't work out for the best anyways if he did. Liking her was better, wasn't it? And... she liked being liked.

She might as well check. She texted him. _Father went to file a report on Hiyori. Just warning you._

 _Fuck_ , he responded. She expected begging, demands that she stop him. Not that Father would listen to her. She had her response all planned out.

It never came. Instead she felt cold even though she was inside, and curling up under her blankets didn't help.

The next day at school, Yukine smiled at her, but the other kids giggled when they saw them. She scowled.

At lunchtime, Yukine sat next to her again. "Is Hiyori okay?" she asked. Needling. Questioning. She wanted to know. _Do you hate me or don't you_? She bounced her leg.

"She's scared," said Yukine. "She's in huge trouble if he does that. I don't know what's going to happen."

"He won't listen to me if I say not to," she blurted out.

"I figured."

The rice stuck to the back of her throat. She scowled. _Don't you want to use me, somehow?_

 _Don't you?_

 _Or do you really hate me, and that's the reason you don't want anything from me, because you don't think I'm worth anything?_

"Would you have tried? Or did you try?" he asked.

 _Here we go_. She shook her head. "No point."

"Figured," he said again, stuffing his rice ball into his mouth. Two birds swooped overhead, cawing and chasing each other. She smiled, just because. He glanced over at her, studying her.

She straightened. "Was Yato mad?"

"Not at me, or you."

"I thought he'd think I set it up or something."

"He did wonder."

"Well, I didn't." Though she hadn't asked Father. Because—because the thought that his answer might be _yes_ made her stomach clench.

"I know," he said.

He trusted her to make the best of her circumstances, for his sake, no matter what. And she would never let him down. If he felt the need to force her and Yukine together, then she must not be doing a very good job. She pressed her knees together. _If not, why couldn't you just tell me? Did you have to lock me in? Did you even? Am I crazy for wondering?_

 _If I'm crazy, I'm worthless to you._

Yukine rambled on about how he was considering popping the other kids' tires but he wasn't sure whether or not that was illegal. "What do you think?"

"Don't risk it," she said.

 _You'd want to do something for me—why? Because you feel you owe me for calming you down yesterday?_

 _I have nothing to give you for eating with me, for being my... friend._ Even if Father expected her to use this friendship to help get Yato back. Maybe getting Yato might mean getting Yukine, too, into their family. And she'd never had someone just try to be her friend, not since Yato. He had nothing to gain from hanging out with the class slut who'd never even had her first kiss.

"Thank you," she said softly, clasping her hands together.

"For what?" he asked. "They're pricks. And I—"

She tucked her hair behind her ears. No classmates were around. She leaned in. His words cut off mid-sentence. She pressed her lips against his. _This. I can give you this._

At the very least, her first kiss was with someone who liked her. "Sorry," she said, pulling back. "Don't tell anyone?"

He gaped at her. He shook his head. "I—won't."

Her face flushed. Great, now he probably thought she was actually the slut after all and yesterday was all lies. She grabbed her bag and scrambled inside. Her bones felt like they were on fire. _I just wanted to do something nice for you_. But he'd looked horrified. Well, shocked, at least, mouth open, eyes wide, those ruby eyes.

She hurried back into the classroom and laid her head down on her desk. Ugh.

 _I can't do anything right._ No matter how hard she tried. Father must have paid her classmates yesterday. She knew it even without asking. And her classmates were only too happy to humiliate her because she tried to get the teachers and everyone to help her, because then—

It wasn't all for Father.

 _I just want to be wanted._

* * *

 _Nora kissed me._

 _She. Nora._

 _Kissed._

 _Me._

Yukine clutched his skull and doubled over, palms pressed against his knees. He'd never been kissed before. He managed to keep it inside until he got home, and now waves of something light surged through him. He grabbed the throw pillow and screamed into it.

"Why hello," said Yato's voice from his bedroom.

Yukine yelped. "You're home early!"

"I was with Hiyori." Yato rubbed his eyes. "She was arrested."

A weight immediately landed on Yukine's shoulders, crunching his spine. He slumped onto the couch. "Is she—okay?"

Yato shrugged. "She's a strong girl."

"Are you dating?" He hated himself right now. He should be pushing for more information on if Hiyori was okay, on what happened, on how to make her life better, and here he was pushing for information that might help him, and he shouldn't even be thinking about it. Especially since Nora was involved in whatever Fujisaki had cooking.

 _Maybe… maybe I can—we can—_

"No," Yato answered. He dropped down next to Yukine, gripping the back of his neck as if he wanted to break it himself. His lips pressed together.

Yukine didn't know what to say, or do.

"Do you resent me?" asked Yato.

"Huh?"

"If it weren't for me," said Yato. "You would be—I mean, he's targeting you and Nora. I'm sure that wasn't a coincidence, what happened in the basement."

According to Nora, it was. And he didn't think she was lying.

"If you wanted to go elsewhere," Yato said. "I could ask Kofuku and Daikoku if they—and I could—"

"No!" Yukine shouted. Yato's words scalded him. He leaped to his feet. "How could you even—no!"

"He won't let up," said Yato, staring at him.

"So?" Yukine grabbed Yato. His eyes stung. "I'm—alone—I don't want to be that way anymore! You promised me—you said—"

You don't want me after all?

"It's not that! I want to keep it—if I left, I'd make sure you had—I—"

"I don't care why you're leaving if you're leaving!" Yukine shouted. " _Don't go!"_ He sounded like a two-year-old, and he didn't care. He stomped his foot. "I don't want you to go! If you go, I'd go with you—I—"

 _Because—I love you._

 _You're my nii-san._

 _You're my family, Yato, don't go._

He wondered, briefly, if this was how Nora felt. "Please don't go. Please."

Yato grabbed him in an embrace, squeezing the back of his head. "I won't go. I promise. I'm—I'm just worried about what he might do. I don't want you to get hurt. You matter too much, and he'll know it."

"Let me help you," Yukine requested.

"No, you're a kid. I'm going to do my best to ensure that you have that, at the very least." Yato pulled back, and Yukine saw that his own eyes were red-rimmed. Yato wiped his nose on his sweatshirt.

Yukine swallowed. It was such a strange feeling, to be cared for.

 _You might not let me, but I'm going to help you anyways. Because I want to._

He smiled at Nora when she arrived at school the next day. She smiled back, shyly, as if she was embarrassed but still happy about kissing him.

At lunch, he joined her again.

"You don't think I'm a slut?" Nora greeted him.

"No? You told me you weren't," Yukine said.

"Yeah, but then I kissed you."

"But you wanted to, right?" Yukine's face was burning. Dammit, he had to concentrate.

"Obviously."

Yukine set his lunch aside. _I should do it. I should just do it._ His palms felt sweaty. He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers and keeping his eyes squeezed shut the entire time. "There, now we're both sluts."

Nora's face was red now. So she could get embarrassed. "You're stupid." She clacked her chopsticks together. But she was smiling.

He unwrapped his salmon rice ball, holding it in his hands.

"Something you want to say?" Nora prompted.

He swallowed. "Your father—he had Hiyori arrested."

"I heard."

"She's a nice girl; she doesn't deserve it. She was just trying to protect Yato, I'm sure—"

"Or take him away," Nora countered.

"Hardly. They only met last summer and if Yato doesn't want to connect with your father, that's his choice, and not your father's, and not Hiyori's." Yukine's heart pounded.

She stared at him.

"Please ask him to drop the charges," Yukine requested. "I know you said you couldn't yesterday, but please, try."

Nora inhaled. "I can't."

"Why not?" Yukine demanded. "Can't you make your own decisions?"

"'That's not it! I—I want him back too! You have to know that!"

"Why?" Yukine demanded. "Why does he want Yato back? Why? What makes him not content with just you?"

Nora's nostrils flared. "Because—he loves him! He loves me too, but I'm not Yato—we're two different people. And he loves him like a son, so he wants him back!" She shoved rice into her mouth. "Wouldn't you want someone you loved back? Isn't Yato irreplaceable to you?"

Rice stuck to the roof of Yukine's mouth like glue. He looked down at his scuffed shoes. "How is that love, if he doesn't care about what Yato wants?" Yato cared about what Yukine wanted. Last night, he did.

"If he—"

"That's not how I feel about people I love," said Yukine, hauling a knee up to his chest, the other leg still dangling. "I want them to be happy. That's… Yato, Hiyori I guess, and maybe Kofuku and Daikoku, our landlords. And you. I want them all to be happy, and for Hiyori that means not having a criminal record."

"Me?" Nora looked surprised.

"I mean, we're friends, right? And we kissed?" His face felt like it was dumped in scalding water. "I don't know how friends works. Or kissing."

Nora looked down at her half-empty container. "But if I want to be close to Yato, you won't let me, even though that's what I want."

"I can try to talk to him, eventually," offered Yukine. If Nora could change—if she could break away from that Fujisaki—

She nodded. "Okay." She clenched her fists around the rock wall. "I can—talk to Father. But I don't know that it'll do anything."

"Thank you."

"We could practice kissing," Nora offered. "More, I mean. Since that was my first kiss too, but like, I've read articles and I watch movies."

"Huh?"

She wrapped her arm around his shoulders. Her face hovered centimeters away, and then she leaned in and he leaned in to meet her. So this was kissing—really kissing, mouth open, breath stolen, a hand against his hair and then fingers digging in, pulling closer.

 _I like this. I like—you._

* * *

 _Criminal_.

Thanks to the restraining order, Hiyori couldn't go to Fujisaki's class. Not that she wanted to anyways. She wrapped her arms around herself as she tried to study in the library. She felt like people were whispering around her, though.

Her brother and her grandmother tried to comfort her, brewing her favorite tea and her brother cracking awkward jokes, but Hiyori knew they were worried and it was all her fault. Her grandmother wasn't in good health, and she might have made it worse.

She chewed her pencil. _I hate being a burden._

A hand touched her shoulder. Hiyori jumped.

"Hey," said Bishamon. She pulled up a chair. "Sorry about what happened. But also, thank you for punching that dick in the face."

Hiyori managed a small smile. "My lawyer said I shouldn't talk to you, or they'll think it was premeditated."

"Fuck them," said Bishamon. "He's watching all of us, isn't he? If we start living like we're in fear of him it'll only get worse. He can kiss my ass." She squeezed her eyes shut. "He thinks everyone exists to serve him and everyone is disposable. Well, I miss Suzuha."

Hiyori watched her. Bishamon was so beautiful, in ways Hiyori would never see herself as. "What was he like?"

"Quiet," said Bishamon. "I should have done more. Well, I'll do what I can now. Not that it really matters." She curled her fist. "He kissed you, right? Fujisaki?"

Hiyori flushed. She nodded.

"Did he invite you to that party?"

Hiyori nodded again.

"Would you be willing to be a witness?" asked Bishamon. "Because I'm trying to gather—"

"Yes," said Hiyori. "Absolutely." She wanted to help. She hated that man. Hated him. She saw the terror in Yato's eyes when he approached, and she had no idea what was causing that kind of panic, but she knew that she hated anyone who made someone else look that way, look like a kicked dog.

"Thank you," said Bishamon, heaving a sigh. "You have any more classes today?"

Hiyori shook her head.

"You want a ride home?"

"Sure." Hiyori grabbed her bag. Her heart leaped. She always had friends, but never the sort she could really be open with, because she always wondered if they liked her for her, or if they liked what she could offer them: a listening ear, a laugh, a lunch not spent alone.

 _Am I any different?_

"You do martial arts, right?" asked Bishamon. She tossed her hair. "I do, too. We should spar sometime."

Hiyori nodded.

"I'm deliberately trying to unbutton more buttons every day," said Bishamon, adjusting her blouse. "I'll make them sorry."

Hiyori snorted. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, but it's an idea. Better than sitting around and doing nothing." Bishamon set her jaw as she strode towards her car.

"I don't know what else to do," Hiyori said as she slipped into the car. A tiger dangled from the front mirror and the car smelled of cinnamon, and cat. "My parents—they're disappointed, I know it. I never wanted to burden them, and yet—"

Bishamon glanced at her. "If they think you're a burden, they're pieces of shit themselves."

Hiyori flinched.

"You're their daughter," said Bishamon, twisting the key in the ignition.

 _I try, and I try, and it's still not enough_. Maybe it wasn't even her parents. Maybe it was just her, and her insatiable need to prove that she deserved to exist in this world. Everything in her world seemed perfect, so she should be perfect. Beautiful glass, and no one had put her in that world, but she'd created it herself.

 _I don't know how to exist. I'm so afraid of breaking things._

Her parents wouldn't want her to be a witness for Bishamon.

 _But I want to_.

"Shit!" gasped Bishamon as she pulled out onto the main road. The car swerved.

"What is it?" Hiyori yelped.

"Flat tire!" Bishamon pulled over to the side of the road and exhaled. "Sorry about this."

"Not your fault."

Bishamon cussed. She ducked out of the car, and Hiyori followed her to see exactly what they both suspected. One tire slashed.

"Motherfucker," said Bishamon. She pulled out her phone.

 _I'm just going to create more problems for my family and for myself if I do this. For my future._

 _What even is my future?_ Silent, wrapped in cotton gauze? Or was she a person, flesh and organs, who bled and talked and stumbled and broke things?

 _It's inevitable._

 _I'm scared._

"Kazuma pick up your fucking phone," complained Bishamon. "Great, now he's gonna have a conniption when he sees several missed calls."

"I'll call Yato?" offered Hiyori.

"No," said Bishamon. "Let's change it ourselves. Fuck this shit."

Two hours later and they'd finally figured it out. Hiyori asked Bishamon to take her back to Yato's place.

He was just staggering up to the door, carrying bags of groceries. He paused. His eyes widened when he saw Hiyori hopping out of the car. She squinted against the sun.

"Why are you covered in grease?" Yato burst out.

"We changed a tire," Hiyori said, nodding at Bishamon, who was scowling at her smeared blouse.

"What happened?"

"Someone slashed them," said Bishamon with a sigh. She lifted her hair off the back of her neck. "Hiyori says she wants to talk to you, so try not to be a loser for once, okay?" She sauntered inside.

"Hey!" Yato bellowed.

 _Bishamon, really, why_? Hiyori grabbed one of the bags. "Let me help."

"You don't have to."

"I'm stronger than you think," she snapped, marching up to the front door. "I'm—going to be a witness for Bishamon."

Yato blanched. "Hiyori—"

"What?" she demanded. "Things will get worse? I know. I'm seeing it. He's insane, though, Yato, this is—he has to be stopped—he's only just started here and already—we have to do something before he's been here longer and it becomes too late."

 _I'm going to break something._

 _I'm sorry. I hope it doesn't break me. If I stay silent, though… I don't want to. I've never been able to. I've been smothering myself._

"Hiyori—"

"Are you going to break up with me now?" she asked. The words came out scratchier than she'd intended. "Are you?"

"It'd probably be for the best."

Hiyori's eyes popped. Her chest tightened. She should just—go—but— "Are you a coward?"

"No—I like you, a lot, Hiyori—I think you know that, but I want to just—it's so complicated and—"

She tightened her grip on her skirt. Her hands shook. She glared at her boots. "Yato… I thought you were brave. That's why I liked you, because of the way you cared for Yukine, how you fought back and decided to take responsibility for him." She lifted her face, meeting his gaze. "You wouldn't leave him to a cruel world. And seeing where you came from only makes me admire you more, and I—I—fucking hate Fujisaki for what he—"

A thud. Yato dropped the bag of groceries. An apple rolled out, towards her foot. She blinked. And then he was in front of her, and his hands were grasping her face, and he was kissing her, his mouth breaking hers open with frenzied desperation. And he pulled her close, and she thought they'd broken, and they'd healed.


	8. Playing With Fire

Yato focused on nothing more than Hiyori's mouth on his, the sweet taste of her mouth, her hands around his shoulders. _I'm a fool._

 _I can't leave you._

 _I don't want to._

 _You're going to get hurt, but I'll bind up your wounds, if you lend me your shoulder when I can't walk._

She was strong, so strong. And she still wanted to be close to him even though he was the one who would never be normal, not after the life he'd had, Father, and even before Father.

She was lonely, wasn't she? Somehow, despite having two parents, a doctor for a father, a grandmother and an older brother, she still didn't quite feel like she had a place.

 _I want to be that, for you._

 _You can be yourself, with me._

He was scared, diving into a deep pool of water, and he didn't know where the bottom was, and he couldn't breathe, but she was holding his hand.

A throat cleared. Yato flushed, pulling back.

"Does this mean you're my older sister or my mom now?" asked Yukine, folding his arms.

 _Crap!_ Why was it him of all people? Yato pointed his finger at him. "Don't go getting any ideas."

Yukine frowned, confused.

"Sure," Hiyori agreed. Her cheeks were pink. She looked cute.

"That was adorable," called Kofuku's voice from an open window.

"Kofuku!" scolded Daikoku.

"Next time don't make out outside!"

 _I'm done._ Yato ducked inside, tugging Hiyori after him. Yukine followed. _I have a girlfriend?_

He liked this. Yukine seemed happy, chattering with Hiyori, and she helped him proofread an essay due the next day. He'd just have to be smart. No sleepovers while Yukine was here. Hiyori would understand. His face burned just thinking of it.

The next day, Hiyori held his hand when they walked around campus. He still felt scared, but it wasn't as if they were going to keep it a secret. Father could stuff it. Hiyori had been kicked out of his class, but she said she didn't care. He suspected she was lying, but didn't want to press, not just now.

It was strange how freeing it felt to have someone beside him and someone to go home to—someones, almost, now, since Hiyori visited in the evenings for dinner more often than not. Yato wondered what it would be like to meet Hiyori's family. He wasn't sure he was ready for that. Her father was a doctor. He'd surely look down on someone like Yato, who was just scrabbling for a way to keep himself afloat and his kid afloat, too. Or maybe not, since Hiyori wasn't like that, but he didn't want Hiyori's dad dragged into Father's typhoon of terror. Also, he was probably thinking too fast. They only just started dating. _Why am I like this?_

About two weeks after they started dating, Yato heard someone call out his name.

 _Fuck_. He'd been expecting this, and yet he was still not ready. Yato turned around to see Father jogging up to him, a beaming smile on his face. "Decided to drop the charges?" Yato greeted him.

"Right down to business, are we today?" Father chuckled, massaging the back of his neck. He smiled. "I might, if you have dinner with me."

Yato paled.

"It'd make Nora happy."

"I don't—"

"Don't care? Are you really so cold, Yoboku? Dumping one family for a new one? What will happen when Hiyori no longer interests you, or that brat disappoints you as he surely will. You know, he and Nora are getting awfully friendly at school, I'm even getting concerned—"

"Shut up," Yato said. _Think, think, let me think!_ He felt like the man was using some kind of magic on him, corrupting his thoughts, forcing him into a constricting time capsule that would change who he was and how he breathed and revert him. "Don't you dare threaten Yukine again. Or Hiyori."

"I won't if you-"

Yato's hand shot out, grabbing the man by the throat. "You _won't."_

Father snorted. "Protective over your girlfriend? Yukine—"

"Why are you like this?" Yato demanded. His hand shook. He let the man go, curling his fists. _What have I done?_ "Why do you have to—why—"

"I want to protect the family I have, the life I have," Father said simply. The sun passed behind a cloud, enclosing them in shadows. The ground was damp from last night's rain. Yato spotted his reflection in a puddle, sliced and distorted by the breeze. "I want you back. And I don't want to lose my job. I had no way of knowing that grad student was depressed."

Yato watched his reflection turn into a bubbled mess as the wind picked up. His hair flapped into his eye. He pushed it aside. "You could have been kind."

"Kindness isn't a way to ensure growth. I did not want the kid to kill himself. You can't think I'm to blame for another person's actions, am I? He made his own choices, and I—I certainly could have helped more than I did, but I'm not responsible. And that girl hit me."

"She was just trying to—"

"My nose still hurts."

"Boo hoo."

Father exhaled. "I've been put on Kazuma's committee for his oral presentation at the end of the semester. The one that determines whether or not you can continue with the program. I certainly didn't request it."

"Now why would I believe you?" Yato's heart pounded. Bishamon would be pissed. The department couldn't allow this, could they?

"Yoboku, my job's at risk. I can't lose Nora—they'll take her, and it's not as if you want her, if I lose my job. And even now my research is suffering, and I've lost the respect of my classmates—I only made a joke to Bishamon about her skirt length once; you've made similar jokes, that I know—"

 _I'm just as bad as you. I'm just like you._

 _No!_

 _I don't want to be!_

A leaf floated by his head. Yato watched it fall to the ground, scamper over the pavement.

"Please, Yobuku," said Father. "I do feel for the grad student, and your girlfriend—it's not making me happy to make her miserable—I just can't—I lost my wife, you know that, and I—"

The wind died down. Yato's reflection solidified, the dark hair, the shape of his eyes, his sweatshirt and his jeans, bought with his own money. Yato glared up at the man. His voice shook like branched knocking against each other, but he spoke anyways. "His name was Suzuha. The grad student. And my name's Yato."

He spun on his heel. He took off. He ran, ran straight to his home. He texted Hiyori. He pounded on Bishamon's door.

"What is it?" She flung it open.

"My bastard father is going after Kazuma."

Her eyes ignited into purple flames. She yanked Yato into her apartment, slamming the door. Karuha hissed from his perch on the window sill, surveying all the people he deemed unworthy of life or whatever it is that miserable cat did for fun.

"Are you serious?" she demanded. Her hands rested on her hips.

"Yes," said Yato, chest heaving. "He said he wouldn't if I—if I had dinner with him."

"Don't do it," Bishamon said immediately. "You can't."

Yato slumped onto her couch. Karuha backed up even though he was still across the room from it. _What is your problem_? Bishamon picked the cat up, and he immediately started purring and garing spitefully at Yato. "He sees people just as—things. He's mad that he lost his wife, the one he married right after high school. To be honest, I don't even know if he loved her, or if he just saw her as an object."

Bishamon cussed. "Who knows?" She dropped into a lavender armchair. Karuha curled up on her lap, as if it knew it was safe with her. She stroked the creature's fur. "Maybe I should just withdraw."

 _Maybe._

 _But…_

 _Please don't._ "If you do, then you're the loser."

She narrowed her eyes. "What would you do?"

"I don't know. What I am doing, I guess, since he's going after Hiyori."

"But you're dating."

"What exactly are you and Kazuma, besides dumbasses?"

Bishamon's jaw dropped. "I beg your pardon?"

"Proper, huh?" He scowled.

"We're friends and roommates and neither of us have time for a relationship."

"But he matters to you," Yato pointed out. He ground his teeth. _You owe me for this, Kazuma._

"Well, obviously." Bishamon flicked an earring. She pulled Karuha up again, snuggling him to her chest.

 _He makes you feel wanted._

 _All the cats, all the grad students, all the mentoring—do you just want to feel wanted?_

He rose. "Don't drop out."

She managed a wavering smile. "I won't."

As he expected, Kazuma stopped by before Hiyori would arrive with Yukine. She said she'd walk him home from school. "You heard?" Yato asked.

"I hate your father more than anything," replied Kazuma. He curled his fists. His spine hunched, as if he was trying to implode on himself. Which might be less messy than an explosion, but would also leave Yato more open to Bishamon's rage.

"Welcome to the club." Yato scowled.

"I hate myself," whispered Kazuma. "I really, really hate myself."

"Why?" Yato demanded.

Kazuma dropped onto the couch, hanging his head between his knees. "All I do is create problems for the people I love. I'm nothing but a burden—a fungus, really."

"Okay, biology dude, let's not make gross comparisons."

Kazuma didn't even laugh. Yato didn't know what to do. Kazuma gripped his knees so hard he looked as if he might snap his kneecaps clean off. If he said that out loud Kazuma would probably snap at him that that's not how anatomy worked or whatever. "This always happens."

Yato wondered about Kazuma's family. Maybe it was better not to ask.

"I want—I want—" He exhaled. "I really don't even want to live, but I don't want to die. I've always thought myself better than—scum like your father, and yet—I'm the same, aren't I? Aren't I? I manipulated to get you and Nora to help Bishamon keep her apartment—she says if I trusted her I wouldn't have done that—I'm bad, I'm really—a bad person." He lifted his face, and Yato saw tears streaming. "I don't deserve her."

"And yet she chose to live with you," Yato pointed out. He wanted to grab that chicken throw pillow, hold it to his chest for protection from the tears, but he was out of reach. Damn.

Kazuma shook his head. "I don't know why."

"You could ask her." _Communication_.

Kazuma shook his head again. "I'm—afraid of what the answer might be. I'm—if she knew everything about me—all I do is try to help her and I hurt her, and now my mere existence is a risk for her, and I—she won't back down, because she's stubborn, and I wouldn't want her to, and I would want her to—I don't even know. I don't want her to lose that fire that makes her Bishamon."

"What did you do?" Yato whispered.

"I hacked into Kaguha—the TA's—files to find some of the emails where he was rude to Suzuha. It was dumb. She can't even use those; they're unfairly gotten."

"Oh gods, how terrible. You're going straight to hell." Yato's voice sounded biting, sarcastic, and he couldn't help it. "Haven't I done worse? I don't—as yoboku—I did whatever my father wanted for me. My teacher is dead because he bullied her into killing herself, because she was too good of a person." _Don't be Sakura, Kazuma. Please don't die. Please don't leave us. Please live._ "But I'm still—Hiyori—"

A sad smile broke Kazuma's lips. "You're far braver than I am."

"I'm a coward."

"No," said Kazuma, getting to his feet. "No, you're not."

 _You are, though. You really are._

"Don't be stupid," warned Yato.

Kazuma shrugged. "I am stupid."

Yato wanted to tear his hair out. Kazuma disappeared.

He groaned, head in his hands. Hopefully Hiyori and Yukine would get here soon, distract him. He should probably ask Yukine about Nora. Warn him about romance, about what Father said, have a talk that Yato would rather be pecked by birds and stung by bees than have.

It could wait.

* * *

"I talked to him," said Nora. "I really did. He said he'd offer Yato a deal, but…" She hunched her shoulders. "Apparently he hates us enough not to even want a dinner with us."

"He doesn't hate you," said Yukine. "I think he just doesn't trust you. Or your father."

Nora nodded. "Clearly not." She slid her gaze to Yukine. "Are you going to break up with me now?"

"Huh?" He blinked. The sun glared down on them. He squinted,

"Because I can't get him to do it, even though I tried?" Nora curled her fists.

"Of course not!" Yukine exclaimed. _Is that really how shallow you think I am?_

Or was that how her father actually was? Thinking she was only worth something based on what she could do for him? Did he still think Yato had worth because of that, or did he inherently favor Yato over Nora?

Nora pulled her knee to her chest. "Oh."

"What?" asked Yukine.

"You're special is all," Nora said. "Because most people would not still be here."

"I think it's sad and pathetic you think like that," Yukine retorted.

Nora scowled at him. But she was cute when she was angry. Now that he was no longer afraid of her.

"I wish you thought of yourself as a person," Yukine said, kicking his legs out. They sat on the same stone wall as always.

Nora caught her breath.

"That's what Yato said to me," said Yukine. "After they arrested me. He asked me if I wanted to live like a—like a normal person, or really just a person, since he didn't know what normal was, instead of as a criminal or a—" He stopped himself. "Did you know about that?"

"Father told me," Nora said. "Yes."

"But you still like me."

She nodded. "It sounds like something he would say. Yato." She picked up a pebble and tossed it.

"I wish you would like like that," said Yukine, facing her. White clouds loomed on the horizon. "I think you are a person whom I like, so."

"What do you think I'm living as? A ghost?" Nora snorted.

"A tool," he said. "You don't need to do stuff to be wanted. Not by people who really love you. If you stopped trying to be useful to Yato he might come—he might come around." Yukien studied his knuckles.

"I don't know if anyone really loves me, then," Nora said, her voice haunted, a vapor in the wind.

"I can," he said. _Do I?_

Maybe. He could ask Hiyori what love was like. She loved Yato, didn't she? Okay, so they'd been dating like two weeks. But still. The way Yato kissed her…

Nora wiped at her eyes.

"Are you crying?" he asked.

She shrugged.

 _I want to kiss you like that_. "Can I kiss you?"

She nodded. Yukine imitated what he'd seen Yato doing with Hiyori, hands clutching her face, but no, his hands gripped her shoulders instead, and she leaned in, kissing him back with that same fervor.

The bell rang, and they hurried into the classroom. One of their classmates pointed at them and whispered. Yukine ignored them.

When school ended, Nora approached his locker. "I texted Father."

"Hm?" Yukine stuffed his books into his bag.

"I told him what you said. That backing off might—help Yato. If he really loves him, and he does, so. That hurting Hiyori isn't going to make Yato like him any more." Nora shifted. "Maybe that'll get him to drop the charges. I don't think there's anything more I can do."

He swallowed. "Thank you."

She smiled. A real smile, with her eyes lighting up.

"Is the slut actually settling down?" called a voice.

"Don't believe her, Yukine, run for your life!"

"It's hopeless; the bitch's already got him under her spell."

Laughter broke out. Nora scowled.

Yukine turned to them all, raising his middle finger. Nora's eyes bulged. A titter emerged from her lips. "Let's go." He grabbed her hand, pulling her with him. His insides clamped. He wanted to punch them. How could they—

"What? For real?" Nora panted as she jogged to keep up with him.

"For real. They don't have the right to treat you like that."

"Because it's a lie?"

Yukine turned to her. "Because you're a person and no one deserves that." He shoved the doors open. His heart pounded.

The clouds brewed above, completely shrouding the sun. Rain poured down on them. Thunder crackled in the distance.

"Shit," breathed Yukine. He had no umbrella.

Nora squeezed his hand. Oh right, he was still holding it. She smirked. "Let's go to my place. Father won't be home for awhile, and you can leave before you have to see him. I want to show you something."

"Um—okay," he stammered.

"Run!" She dragged him through the streets. Rain smacked their faces, wind rifling through their hair. Yukine's sneakers, the ones Yato bought him, splashed into a puddle, soaking him through his socks. He yelped. Nora shrieked as a car drove by and splashed them. But she was laughing, and he—he liked the sound.

Nora fumbled with her key, swinging the door open to her house. It looked different without all the partiers… empty, really, without much art or anything on the walls. Nora shivered, pulling him upstairs. She yanked open her bathroom door, handing him a towel to dry off. From her dresser drawer, she pulled out a stack of photos. And then she ducked into her bathroom to change out of her skirt and vest, as they were plastered to her.

Yukine fiddled with the photographs. He saw Yato, and Nora. And sometimes Father, in happier times. But there was a sad look on Yato's face, too.

"I miss them," said Nora, reemerging in sweats. "I mean, I miss this. I want to—I felt like I had a family then." She dropped down next to him. "You made me feel like I could have one, today."

Yukine blinked. "Me?"

She nodded, pulling her soaked hair back from her face. She checked her phone. Her eyes widened. "Yukine!"

"Yeah?"

She held the phone out to him. A text from Father. _Fair point. I'll drop the charges._

Yukine gaped. "Do you—do you think he'll actually do it?"

Nora smiled. "If he said it, he'll do it." She clapped her hands together.

"Are you happy?" he asked her.

"Aren't you?"

He nodded. His heart thumped in his chest. Because—because he remembered that feeling, after Yato challenged him to live like a person, to live like who he wanted to be instead of sinking under the weight of the cruelties life rolled at him again and again, to _try—_ it was freeing.

 _I really do like you, Nora._

 _I'm glad I'm getting to know you._ Even with their rough start, even with the way she'd manipulated him in the beginning—if it was all leading here, he felt nothing but soft sunlight. _You're worth it._

 _I really want you to believe it._

He leaned over, and this time, when their mouths met, he felt something like fire igniting in his belly. Her hands, cold and damp from the rain, like ice on his shoulder blades. And she was pulling him down, and he was tugging her up, and there were doubts like shards of glass trying to get in, but he didn't want to think about them, or about anything besides her, and the fact that she wanted him, too.

"Father will be home soon," she said, breaking the sounds of their pants. "You should—go." Her face was red.

 _What did we do?_

About two drops of blood stained the floor. Nora wiped them up. She grabbed her blankets, covering herself. Her brow pinched.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

She met his gaze and nodded. "Are you?"

He nodded as well. "I'll text you tonight." _You're not a slut. I don't think of you that way. And even if you were, so what? I'm not any better._

"I wanted to," Nora said quietly. "I'm—not—"

"I'm not either," Yukine said. "I wanted to, too."

She smiled. "Does it sound bad if I say I liked it?"

"No," said Yukine. "I did, too."

"How was school?" Yato greeted him when he got home.

"Fine," Yato said, and he could tell Yato knew he was omitting something, but he didn't press, and Yukine didn't know how to tell him.


	9. Mistakes

"Kazuma's gone."

Yato froze, knife in his hand. The zucchini he was supposed to be chopping forgotten, he turned to the door. Hiyori turned the stove off, the spiced smell of meat cooking filling the air. Yukine set his math textbook down.

Bishamon stood in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest. "He left me a check to cover the rent for the rest of the year. Not even a note."

Yato gulped.

"I know why," said Bishamon, staring at her boots. She cussed, throwing what looked like a check down on Yato's table. Her hands flew to cover her face, and she dropped to the floor, shuddering.

"I'm sorry," whispered Yato. _Father—Father—_

It wasn't right. He'd just dropped the charges on Hiyori last week—why—

 _You aren't running from him, or running for Bishamon._

 _You're running because you're a goddamn coward, Kazuma, and you're afraid of facing yourself, and you'll never be close to Bishamon because you're too afraid of hurting her._

 _Don't you think you have the right to exist? To breathe? To talk to someone? Or do you just want to be a ghost floating along, observing, unable to affect anybody or do anything because if you do you'd have to risk hurting and therefore being a bad person?_

 _Do you even care about Bishamon? Or is it all about your own self-worth?_

"I'm sorry," whispered Hiyori. "I don't know what to say."

Bishamon shrugged. "He's stupid."

"So are you," said Yato.

"Yato!" shrieked Yukine.

"Well? You know he has—did you talk to him? Maybe—you're both stupid," said Yato. He wanted to scrub it away, this guilt that crawled all over him like poisonous centipedes. _Because of me—I poison everything—no, I don't want to! I don't want to anymore!_

Bishamon straightened, tugging her hair back. She cast Yato a sad smile. "I don't blame you, you know. He is an idiot, and I am too."

"Are you okay?" whispered Yukine, looking terrified.

"No," said Bishamon. "But I will be. I hope he will be, too." She drifted out of the apartment, probably going to grab Karuha and then cry to Kofuku.

"Can you contact him?" asked Yukine, looking to Yato. "He was nice."

Yato shrugged. "I can send him a text, but I don't know that he'll answer." Somehow he doubted it. Kazuma probably thought he didn't deserve anyone reaching out to him. Or friends at all.

 _Why are you such a coward?_

Hiyori exhaled.

"I don't understand," said Yukine. "He loves Bishamon. That's obvious. So why—"

 _He hates himself more than he loves her._ Or maybe not, but at the very least he was choosing that, choosing to flagellate himself for whatever reason. Yato didn't know what kind of life Kazuma had had growing up, but he was willing to lay money down that it wasn't happy.

"It's up to him," said Yato finally. "If he wants to come back, or not." He looked at Hiyori and thought how he and Kazuma were the same in so many ways. He would have left her, broken up with her, just to protect her. And even now, he still felt guilty.

 _There's no option where you don't feel guilt, is there?_

But this was an option that, at the very least, offered him some happiness.

Yukine went back to studying, but he had a deep frown etched into his face. Yato wasn't sure what was wrong, or if he should ask. He'd tried, but Yukine said nothing was wrong, things were good at school, he'd told bullies off, Nora was even doing okay. The moment Father backed off Hiyori Yato knew Nora must have been involved, and Yukine, but he was still wary. _Don't trust her too much, Yukine._

And then compunction again clamped down on his throat as the thought slipped through his mind. Maybe—maybe there was hope for Nora, but he was afraid to hope, afraid to trust her when he knew what she and Father were capable of, even if Father was the one using her. Sakura...

 _I'm a coward, too._

Dinner was quiet that night. Yukine went to sleep early, having a test in the morning.

"Want to talk?" asked Hiyori.

"No, but yes," Yato said, dropping onto the couch. He rested his elbows on his knees.

"It's not your fault."

"Isn't it, to some extent?" Yato turned to her. "It all comes back to me. He's like, so obsessed with me."

"Why?" asked Hiyori.

He shook his head. "He first found me—threatening some reporter to get them to—I'd been paid to get them to cut off this story, and it would give me enough to sleep under a roof—I held a knife to the man's throat. He was crying, begging, talking about his family."

Hiyori whitened.

"I didn't kill him. I wasn't planning to. But I'd have done anything to—" Yato stopped. "I was six. Or seven. That's when he took me in."

"Yikes," said Hiyori.

"Yeah."

"Sorry." She covered her mouth. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Why not? It is _yikes_. I'm—he chose me because he saw how fucked up I was, for no other—"

"You don't want to be anymore."

"So? I can't change it, Hiyori." He gripped his knees now, gaping at her, eyes stinging. "I am who I am. I can't erase—I can't—" _Sakura… I'm so sorry. You only cared, and you died for it._

 _Why are you still here, Hiyori? Because you want to be? Or you feel obligated—no._ He knew it wasn't obligation. Her entire life was obligation, except for him. Because she cared so deeply that she forgot she herself mattered, that she was not a lesser light than all the lights shining around her.

 _You're my light. You're worth something, to me, something invaluable._

Yato inhaled, covering his face.

"You don't have to," Hiyori insisted. "You can be—just Yato. That's all I want. Your past; it—"

 _I want you to know. I want you to know how much you mean, I want you to believe that you deserve to live, that you don't have to earn it, that you don't have to be perfect to be beautiful. But you don't, do you?_

 _You hate yourself, too._

He leaned in, grabbing her in his arms. Hiyori inhaled. Her lips found his, and he was crying, and her cheeks were damp too, and he couldn't even tell if they were his own or hers. Her hands dug through his hair, clutching him as if she was afraid he'd vaporize, vanish from her touch like he was prone to do, like he considered so many times.

 _I'm scared. Even happy with you, I'm scared._

 _I don't want to be Yoboku._

Breathe. Breathe in, breathe out. Inhale her sweet scent of vanilla and berries. Feel her skin under his fingertips, her lips on his neck. He should tell her to keep it below the collar.

No. He didn't want to speak, not in this moment.

They staggered into his bedroom, Yato shutting the door. They had to be quiet, because he did not want Yukine to hear. Her shirt came off first, and then his own, and she was lying on him, her mouth trailing across his pecs. She fumbled in her purse to grab a condom.

"Were you wanting this?" he rasped.

"Eventually." Hiyori captured his lips again, digging deep. He pushed her skirt off, and she unbuttoned his pants.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Okay," she panted.

She worked with him, fingers pressing into his shoulder blades, his arms around her waist, sweat sticking her hair to him and his lips diving to her neck. She called him _Yato_ , even if she knew bits and pieces, because she believed in him, in his capacity to choose goodness, and he called her Hiyori, because that was all he wanted her to be.

Yato woke the next morning to Hiyori's phone ringing. He sat up, chest bare. Hiyori fumbled for it. "Hello?" She pushed herself up, clutching the blanket over her chest. "I'm sorry I didn't call. I—I'm at Yato's. Yes. My boyfriend's."

Yato flushed. He wondered if it was her dad or her brother who was going to come and kill him.

"Look, I know, I should have called," Hiyori said. "I'm not perfect. I'm sorry." She hung up.

"Are you okay?" Yato managed.

"Yeah." She turned to him, hair mussed. "I'm not—sorry. I mean, I'm sorry I didn't call. But I like—this. Us. I love you."

Yato's eyes burned again.

 _Love?_

No one said they loved him but Father, and Nora. Yukine, he supposed didn't need to say it.

 _But you love me like that._

 _I'm still afraid I'll send you running._

 _I think that's on me though, not on you._

"Should I go?" Hiyori asked. "Since Yukine—"

"No," said Yato, exhaling. "He should learn about healthy relationships. And—safe sex. Eventually. We can have that talk sometime. We should."

"He's sixteen. Yeah, you should." Hiyori rolled her eyes.

"But it's awkward." Yato made a face.

Hiyori swung her pillow at him, and he laughed.

* * *

Father's first hearing did not go well. The discipline committee scheduled another. He cussed and said he regretted dropping the charges on the Iki girl. When she tried to comfort him, he shrugged her off.

"It'll all work out," he assured her when she flinched. "But your suggestion backfired."

She didn't want to believe that. She didn't want to hurt Father. But she also didn't want to hurt Yukine, and she was starting to fear those two goals were not compatible.

And she was lying to Father. Three lies. Firstly, that she and Yukine were only casually kissing. Secondly, that he refused to tell her things.

But she didn't want to share the things he told her. They were precious, something she kept close to her heart, even though she should have been gathering them with an intent.

The third lie was that she thought Yukine a fool. Though it was not precisely a lie. She did. But she also wished she could be more of a fool. She'd be dead if she was as foolish as him, or maybe not, because he was still alive, and she thought that was so beautiful.

She stole money from Father, ostensibly for a date with Yukine, which he'd agreed to. But she used it for condoms instead, because Yukine came to school one day gagging about an awkward talk about sex that Yato had apparently butchered until Iki Hiyori came to save the day.

But it would all be okay. Father would forgive her when she got Yukine and Yato and even Hiyori to forgive him and they could all be a family again. She wouldn't mind Hiyori if she made Yato happy, so long as she could be a part of his life too.

She wouldn't press this time. She could trust Yukine. At long as she had him, she'd eventually be able to talk to Yato. She had time. It would all work out okay.

Almost two months passed, and Father's hearing loomed closer, before she started to realize that her time was running out.

It started with her just feeling tired, like each of her bones was weighted with lead. And it spun into fear that only amplified it, and a pulsating nausea that tugged at her even in her dreams.

If she ignored it, maybe it would go away.

It wasn't going away.

And Father would know, if she told him. He'd know she lied, kept something from him when she had no right to, and she couldn't let him know that. He had to still love her.

The taunts of her peers hit closer to home these days, stinging her between her ribs. _Slut. Bitch. Whore._

What if they were right all along? And if she told Yukine, what if he changed his mind too?

 _But I trust him._

 _Do I?_

There was one person she could turn to. Maybe it would make him scared. Maybe he would care. And she had to make sure he knew it was her; she could make sure he would be okay with Yukine, then.

 _Yato, help me._ She didn't need to tell him it was Yukine, though he'd probably figure it out.

She told Yukine she had to help Father with something on campus on the weekend, and it was a lie, and she ignored it. Yato would be there, in the library, surely.

There he was, curled in a corner with a stack of astronomy books. She hesitated. What if he rebuffed her?

 _But Yato, I need you. I need help_. Panic pinched her palms. _And I want you to help._

He used to be protective of her, as protective as Father would let him be. And she was protective of him. She helped her learn to swim, because she was scared. It wasn't Father teaching her; it was him.

" _I won't let you sink. Promise," he said, holding her afloat._

 _How about now_? She scurried over to him, tapping him on the shoulder.

Yato's eyes popped. Shock. And disappointment. She tried to squeeze it away. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Who's Father threatening now?" he asked.

She blinked. "No one."

"Untrue. What do you want, Nora?"

She flinched. _Nora_. Not Hiiro.

 _I really liked that name._ It meant 'scarlet.' It was her favorite color. "To talk to you."

"Kazuma's gone, because of him. Hiyori was almost—you're trying to—" He shook his head, getting to his feet. "I'm sorry, Nora. I care, but I can't—I can't talk to you, not as long as you're with him—"

"Why not?" she demanded. Panic scrabbled up inside her, grabbing for her windpipe. _No, no—you can't go!_

 _I need you!_ She caught his sleeve.

He whirled around. "I can't trust you." His voice sounded panicked, like he was trying to hide. "As long as you're with him, anything you say might be—his words more than yours—anything I say will get repeated back to him—don't think I don't know that you're manipulating Yukine—"

"I'm not!" _If I wanted to leave him, where would I even go?_

"Why?" Yato asked her, voice broken. "Why would I ever believe you would do anything for yourself, when it's always been for him?"

"It's not for him!" _It's for me!_ Because she needed him. "Yato, I really need to—"

"I can't," Yato said, holding his hands up. "I'm sorry, Nora. I really am. Please don't hurt Yukine, though. Please."

She was crying. "Why won't you just—"

"When I look at you, I remember the worst moments of my life," Yato said. "What you did to Sakura—what Father made you do—"

His words cut her to the bone. _Sakura_. That teacher. Father went digging into her past, uncovered what she'd done to survive as a child. Prostitution. And he asked her to bring it up at school, as her about a certain gentleman. The school found out, when Sakura broke down. The school fired her. And then, she was dead.

She had no idea that would happen. _It's not your fault,_ Father assured both of them. _She was a sick woman._

But was she? Was she any better? Was she just another—just another—to survive, to get any morsel of affection—

Yato left her standing there, and Nora didn't know what to do.

She didn't want Yato for Father's sake. She wanted to turn to him for her own sake. _Please help me!_

Now Yukine would be angry, thinking she was using him after all. Now he would leave her, wouldn't he? Everyone—everyone—

She doubled over, a high school girl crying in the middle of a vast college campus, and none of the students joking around with each other even noticed.

"Nora?"

 _Don't call me that!_ She looked up, wiping her eyes.

Iki Hiyori.

"Were you here to see Yato?"

"What does it matter?" she choked out. "He would rather spend time with you!"

Hiyori blinked. "Well, your father's on campus, and I can—"

"I don't want to talk to you! Go away!" Hiyori was so picture perfect. She would probably laugh if she knew that Nora was—that she was—was she?

Hiyori held out a tissue.

She gaped. Why— Her fingers closed around it. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"Because," Hiyori said. "You're Yukine's friend."

"But you won't tell Yato to talk to me," she said, voice crumbling. "It's hopeless." And she threw the crumpled tissue at Hiyori, running and running, and she didn't know where to go. She ran back to her house, the only place she was familiar with. Her phone rang, and she knew it was Yukine, and she didn't want to answer it. He'd be angry. She'd lied to him.

She burst into the house with just enough time to make it to the bathroom and throw up. She turned the water in the sink on and laid her head down on the toilet seat.

 _Help me. Someone help me. Anyone._

Tears ran down her cheeks, plinking in the rancid toilet bowl. I' _m still an unwanted child_. Having an unwanted child now. Repeating the cycle like a pathetic, useless fool. She wondered whether her birth parents ever thought of her, whether they ever wanted her, whether her mother felt anything but the complete dread and panic Nora felt now at the thought of having a fetus growing inside her.

If she had a child, the child deserved better. She was a mess, and anyone deserved to be wanted. It seemed such a small thing to ask the universe for, and yet, everyone she knew was unwanted by someone. Except fucking Iki Hiyori.

 _Yukine, would you still want me?_

 _Would you want this child? Would you want me to get rid of it?_

 _I wish whoever gave birth to me had gotten rid of me._

"Mizuchi?" His voice rang out from downstairs.

Fuck. She staggered to her feet, flushing the vomit down. She patted her cheeks with a damp washcloth, exhaling.

And swung the door open to see Father standing there. His arms were crossed. "That's what, the fifth day you've thrown up in a row? Sixth?"

She gaped up at him.

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"


	10. Unwanted

Lie, or not to lie? Tell the truth?

She gaped at Father, the one she'd relied on to protect her for so many years. Her arms felt cold, gooseflesh rising and prickling. "Why—what—"

"Whose is it? Do you know?"

Bile surged up her throat. _So even you—even you think I'm_ — But she'd already vomited everything out of her stomach, and nothing else remained for her to purge. She wanted to cry.

"So it's Yukine's." Father rubbed his child. "That's good. That's useful. Clever of you."

Huh? But she hadn't done it on purpose. She really hadn't. They'd even tried to avoid it. Okay, they hadn't been great the first few times about protection, but—

"Yato will definitely have to talk to us now," Father mused. "Of course, terminating it would be too quick; he could just send a check, though he can't really afford it—"

"What?" She didn't understand. _Are you trying to say I have to have it_? She hadn't even thought about what she wanted to do, whether or not she wanted to have it or have an abortion. And Yato—Yato—he already didn't like her. He already thought the worst of her. If Father decided to use her pregnancy to make him comply, he'd only hate her more.

He won't care. I can't make him care. No matter what I do.

 _I'm useless._

And now he wanted to use the worst thing in her life and the best thing in her life—her relationship with Yukine—and oh fuck, Yukine wouldn't believe her either, would he? That she hadn't planned it.

What if Yato blamed Yukine? What if Yukine—

 _Not from Father's lips, he won't believe it._

And what about her? What about her future? Did she ever have one? She used to think so, but—it was just more of the same. Her and Yato and Father. Lately, Yukine too.

 _Do you even care?_

 _You have to care!_

 _Or do you just not want me to leave you? Don't you trust me? I won't! You have to know I won't—I—_

 _This wasn't what I wanted at all!_

Father…

What did it mean, if he was wrong? What did it mean, if she wasn't sure she could trust him in this? She was bad, clearly. She should trust him. He'd never failed to care for her. And yet—and yet— _Father!_

 _Father, help me!_

 _Father, listen to me!_

She curled her fists, nails embedding in her palms. She was scum, algae at the bottom of a pond. She was so ungrateful to let herself doubt him. And yet—and yet—

 _Yukine, please don't hate me._

 _I'm scared._

Was this how Yukine felt when trapped in that tight basement, the walls closing around him, choking out air? Because that was how she felt now. She could scream, scream until her throat bled, and no one would hear her. Not Father. Not Yato. No one.

 _And if I have this child, what then? What would you do to them?_ What would they be good for? Single mothers were hardly respected. And what, would Yukine marry her in a few years? Still.

 _I'm so stupid._

 _I'm not clever. I'm an idiot._

She did not want to have a child and use it. Because—because—use—

She found herself in her room, crying herself to sleep. But she drifted in a fog, half-awake, half-asleep, not belonging anywhere or giving her mind any kind of relief.

 _Maybe I'll miscarry._

 _Can't that kill you? I don't want to die. And I don't—that's a terrible thought._

A text lit up her phone. Yukine. _I'm bored._

 _Not for long,_ she thought sourly.

 _How's it going?_

Her fingers hovered over the response button. Clearly Father hadn't contacted Yato yet. But he would. He would soon.

Rain pattered on the window. It was dark now, and she felt no more rested.

 _Father…_

Yukine would never trust her again if he heard it from Father first. Yato wouldn't, either. He never would anyways. But Yukine… would he?

You're such a fool, Yukine.

 _I wish I was more of a fool._ She wondered about that cool innocence, something she'd never had. All she remembered was a torrid sense of desperation clamping around her, clammy and entrapping.

She grabbed her phone and stuffed it in her pocket. Father was in his room. He didn't even notice as she slipped down the stairs, and out into the night.

* * *

 _Plink._

 _Clink._

At first, Yukine thought it must be hail. He scrambled up from where he was lying on his bed, trying to study but really just waiting for Nora to text back since she usually wasn't asleep by this point.

But then one grated against his window, and he leaped to his feet. He scampered over to the window, heart pounding. He peered down.

Nora stood there, drenched in the rain, tossing pebbles. He yanked the window open, and one of the pebbles hit him in the face. "Ow!"

She squinted up at him. Was she crying, or was it just the rain. It was too dark to tell. He gestured for her to meet him at the front door.

Hiyori and Yato were talking in his room, their voices low murmurs. Yukine slipped the door open, careful not to jar the knob, and darted down the stairs. He swung it open. "What the hell are you—"

She _was_ crying. Tears streamed from her eyes and snort form her nose. She grabbed him. "I don't—have anywhere else—I can go—"

"What happened?" Yukine didn't understand. "Did Father—"

"He just wants to use me," she managed. "He doesn't actually care—I thought—he—he—" She covered her mouth, muffling a guttural sob.

"Yato can help," Yukine said, shutting the door. He wrapped an arm around her. The sound of footsteps in Kofuku and Daikoku's apartment reminded him that they shouldn't have that conversation here. He tugged her towards the stairs.

She shook her head, droplets flying everywhere from her saturated hair. "I—can't—I went to see Yato earlier—he doesn't want to see me—don't—"

"Huh? You went?" He didn't understand. Why didn't she tell him? She said she— _you lied to me?_

"I'm so scared," Nora said, shivering. "I'm so scared, Yukine." Her teeth chattered.

He held his finger to his lips, easing the door to the apartment open again. They darted through the living area to his room. He shut the door.

It was the first time Nora had ever been in his room. He flushed. He didn't really have any decorations, and his blankets were all retrieved from a secondhand store. Nora didn't seem to care, though. She went over to his bed and collapsed onto it, muffling her sobs in the navy blue quilt.

"Nora?" he ventured. He eased himself down next to her. "Did he—kick you out?" Yato would take her in then, wouldn't he? "Did he—"

She shook her head. "I left—I'm—I'm scared of him, scared of me, scared, I've never not been scared—" Blood leaked out from her fingers.

Yukine yelped, grabbing her fists and disentangling them. "Don't hurt yourself."

"You'll change your mind soon," Nora said, keeping her voice low. "You will. Everyone does. I'm trash and no one wants me—you'll hate me—"

"I won't!" White-hot indignation rose up. "Why would I hate you, Nora? I—I—" _I sleep with you! I really like you! I might even—_

 _Love?_

"I don't like that name," she mumbled. "Nora. I hate it."

Now he felt trapped. "What do you want me to call you?"

"I don't know." She curled up tighter.

"Why—" He didn't know how to ask _why are you here._

"Everyone hates me. Everyone wants to use me and when I disappoint them they hate me." She propped herself up on her elbow, sniffling. "Even you."

"Well, that's not fair," Yukine snapped. "Since you won't even tell me what's wrong. I don't hate you. I don't, I don't, I don't."

"You will." She wiped at her eyes. Thunder crackled outside.

"Stop saying that," said Yukine. At the same time, a horrible fear began to rise in him. _What did you do? To Yato? To Hiyori? Have I been stupid?_

 _But I—I liked spending time with you. I like your laugh and your smile, I like your intelligence, I like your bravery. I like how you don't give up when I don't know how to hold on. I like you._

"You will," she said again.

"Just tell me," he begged. "I don't care what it is, I won't—I can't hate you. I can be mad, but I—I can't hate you because I don't want to, no matter what—I think you can make better choices, you wouldn't be acting so ashamed if you were beyond hope—you—I won't give up on you." He grabbed her shoulders. "I won't give up on you. I won't. Okay?" His throat clogged.

 _I struggle to hold on, but I've held on to Yato. Hiyori. And now, you. I'll hold onto you._

She gaped at him, her lips hovering apart, her nose swollen and eyes scarlet. "I'm pregnant, Yukine. I think."

All the blood drained out of Yukine's face. He couldn't breathe. He just heard that word rattling around in his skull, echoing as if his brain was gone and that was the only thing he knew right now, that she had just said the word _pregnant_ and her.

And— _mine?_

He swallowed. "Are you—sure?"

"I haven't done a test, but I've been throwing up constantly, and I'm—late." She studied her hands. Her shoulders hunched, trembling.

"I don't hate you," he whispered. If anyone, he might hate— _me._

"Father found out," she said. "He thinks I did it on purpose. Yato will think that, too. I went to talk to him—ask him—see if he would—earlier today, but he wouldn't even talk to me and I—I—Father acted like he was glad that he had a fish hook to catch Yato with now, and you, and I don't—I don't want to let him—I don't know if he ever loved me. If he didn't why am I here? Why am I alive?" She wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing them to her chest. "I hate myself. So much."

"I don't." He swallowed. "I love you." _Isn't that enough?_

She looked at him, chin trembling, and she looked like a child. Having a child. "You shouldn't. Father thinks I'm just a whore now. I'd never put a child in this—I mean—what if I would have? I wouldn't, now that I've met you, but before I might have and I don't even know."

"I don't know," said Yukine. "I don't know, but I know I do love—you."

Teras slipped down her cheeks. "I love you, too. And I've ruined my life, and your life. Can you call that love?"

"We'll tell Yato. And Hiyori." Yukine cleared his throat. "Do you want to—"

"I don't think I'd be a very good mom, but I also—" She let out a sob. "I'm—I don't want to not want it. I don't know what I want. I'm a mess."

Yukine felt hot tears streaming down his own face.

"Are you scared?" she asked.

He nodded, and he held her.

He woke up with her in his arms, both of them fully clothed. His alarm for school was blaring.

She rubbed sleep out of her eyes. "Can we tell Yato after school? Maybe—maybe just you, and then—"

Yukine nodded. "Will Father be angry when he realizes you're—"

"He'll probably assume I went to school early." She swallowed, studying her hands.

"If you want," said Yukine. "I'd rather—you were with me. You're a person, not a thing I have to be—ashamed of—" _I'm ashamed of me._

She looked at him, eyes wide. "I'll take a test today. So we know for sure."

"At school?"

"No. I'm not going. Father can suck it."

"But—"

"I'll meet you after school," Nora said. "Text me. I'll be texting you. I promise."

 _I want to trust you._

 _Don't run off._

 _Don't leave me._

* * *

"See you later," Yukine said to Yato, shutting the door behind him. He slung his back over his shoulder. Hiyori was in the shower.

Yato frowned, watching Yukine hurry out with his head ducked down, without so much as a glance at Yato. "Do you have something you need to say to me?"

Yukine skidded to a stop. He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head.

 _You're lying._

 _You're lying, and I'm failing._ Yato swallowed. "Are you sure?"

Yukine hesitated. "Actually, can we talk tonight?" He looked pale. Sweaty.

"Are you feeling all right?" Yato asked, setting his coffee down.

"Not really," said Yukine. "I mean. I'm not sick. We'll talk tonight, okay?" He flashed Yato the fakest of smiles.

Yato watched him go and groaned.

"What's going on?" asked Hiyori, emerging from the bathroom to find Yato glaring at his coffee like it'd personally offended him. Which it had. It was stinging his stomach like acid. Which it was. But fuck that.

"Yukine's—something's wrong with him," said Yato. "He looked so guilty today. He said we'd talk this afternoon, but—"

Hiyori towel dried her hair. "Did—"

"It has to do with Nora, I'm sure," Yato mumbled. "Hiiro."

"You sound like you hate her," Hiyori observed.

"I don't hate her!" Yato burst out. "Not even close. I just—I—I want to protect Yukine from her. I want to protect Yukine from _Father_ , not from her, but as long as she's attached to him, I can't—Father will hurt him. He's hurting her, but I can't—if she doesn't want help, I don't know how to help her."

"Would you want to help her?" asked Hiyori, flopping down next to him. She studied him.

He nodded. "It's not—her fault."

Hiyori waited.

Yato exhaled. "I resent her because she is me. She's like I used to be, only trying so, so hard to convince herself that it's okay because she was even younger than me when he took us in." He remembered her face yesterday, desperate, and he was so afraid to reach out and help her, only to find a handcuff around his own wrist. "I despise that man for what he's done to both of us."

"Fair," said Hiyori. "I hate him, too."

"I just don't know what Father's plotting with her," said Yato.

"She doesn't deserve to be treated like that," siad Hiyori. "And Yato, neither do you."

"If she doesn't want help, then I can't save her, and I don't even know how to even offer when I can't trust her."

"I can try," offered Hiyori. "She was crying yesterday."

Yato rubbed his head. "Maybe she and Yukine had a fight?"

"Probably something like that."

Yato texted Yukine a meme as he and Hiyori headed to college. He hoped the boy was okay. He still couldn't shake a gritty feeling inside his stomach. The sky was gray, bloated with the promise of more thunderstorms on the horizon.

"Yo," called a voice behind them. Bishamon approached, her hands stuck in the pockets of her leather jacket. A cap was pulled low over her blond tresses. "Wait up; I'm walking with you today."

"No car?" Yato asked.

"No car for Sir Asshole to deface," Bishamon corrected. She kicked a pebble ahead, watching it plunkm into a puddle. "Have you heard from Kazuma at all?"

Yato sighed. He shook his head.

"Dammit," said Bishamon. "He's such a fool."

"So are you," Yato said.

"I didn't sell my cats."

"I gave them away."

"You're still an idiot if you thought you could get away with—"

"Hey, hey," interrupted Hiyori. "Bisha. Where do you think KAzuma went?"

"A lonely, craggy mountain top to stare off into the wilderness and contemplate loneliness," Bishamon said sarcastically.

"Fair guess," Yato commented.

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't see why he feels so obligated to—"

"Maybe because you're the only person who's ever treated him like he's worth something," Yato suggested.

"I'm not his god, though," Bishamon said. "Or goddess. I don't want to be looked at like that. I want to be seen as human, and he just— _I don't understand why I'm worth that much to him_."

Yato blinked. _That's rich, coming from someone who constantly plays house with literally everything and everyone she can._

"I wish he wanted to—"

"Yoboku," called a voice.

"Oh Christ," said Bishamon. She whirled around.

"Can we talk?" Father called.

Something was wrong. He was positively beaming. As if he had just eaten the best pastry of his life, and the grains in Yato's stomach dissolved into poisoned sugar, a sickly sweet sensation creeping through his abdomen.

"No," said Hiyori. "Fuck off."

Bishamon nodded in approval. "I like her."

"Flanked by your—"

"No," said Yato. "Enough. If you have something to say, say it with them around. Otherwise, get lost."

"Fine then." Father sighed. He tightened his jacket around them. The first spatters of rain splashed Yato's nose. "Did you know, Yato, that Yukine and Nora are dating? Or at least friends with benefits. And your boy got her pregnant."

The world felt like it was tilting away from Yato. "You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're really disgusting," Hiyori said.

"That's a lie," Yato said again, trying to chase away the memories of Yukine's terrified face that morning. _He wouldn't have done that. He's only sixteen. He is a kid. This would not be happening! I talked to him!_

"Have fun on the lake of fire," Bishamon told Father, grabbing Yato's arm and steering him and Hiyori away.

"Yato?" ventured Hiyori.

His phone rang as they both hauled him away.

"I doubt it's true," Bishamon said. "Nora—"

Yato cussed, pulling out his phone. "It's Yukine's school."

And they told him Yukine had stolen a classmate's wallet.


	11. Jump

_I can't believe this is happening._

 _Why now? Why today, of all days?_

Yukine sat in the office, clutching his knees. The principal stared at him as he spoke to Yato. He hung up. "He's on his way."

Yukine swallowed. Sweat prickled his forehead. Outside, rain slapped the window.

"What about his parents?" asked his teacher, standing behind him so that Yukine couldn't see him.

"He doesn't have them," answered the principal.

Yukine lowered his head. Shame collected in his chest, weighing his lungs down.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He got to school and shut his locker, texting Nora. And then his teacher came up to him, pointing at his locker, with the girl who sat behind Yukine in class behind him, a satisfied look in her eyes even as her lips turned down. And he said they had to look in Yukine's locker, because her wallet was missing.

" _Why mine?" Yukine demanded._

 _The teacher looked at him, and Yukine gulped, because he knew they knew. But he hadn't stolen anything. He scowled, unlocking his locket. "Have at it."_

 _And when the teacher rifled through and pulled out a wallet he'd never seen before from the top shelf, holding it up like it was some kind of trophy, Yukine's jaw fell open. "I've never seen that before!"_

But the teacher dragged him to the office. Yukine pressed his fingertips together. What if Yato didn't believe him? It'd probably be easier if he just confessed, and then promised not to do it again. If he did, the school surely wouldn't call the police, and Yato would give him another chance.

 _And I have to tell him about Nora tonight._

 _I shouldn't have gone to school today. I should have told him this morning. I should have—I should have—why did I fuck up so badly even when I am trying to be good?_

 _Is it just impossible for me to change? Is there something in the universe, some hateful god or whatever, that's decided stealing is all I'm good for?_

A tear splashed onto his pants. _I want to be more than that._

He remembered when his parents decided they were done with him. They saw things, fueled by—something, probably, but Yukine didn't know what it was. He was lucky when they fed him. He was truant to school and no teacher noticed, or cared. They just punished him for having wrinkles and stains marring his uniform.

He remembered them hauling him out late at night on day, after his dad clocked him in the face enough to make him cry again for the first time in years, his mom and his dad, and the feeling of sluggishness in his bones. Like he had been poisoned, and only later did he realize they must have slipped him some kind of drug.

They tried to bury him, because they didn't want him. Or maybe they thought he was going ot die from the blows. But he wasn't dead yet.

A cop came by and stopped them. And Yukine remembered shivering in the hospital, and feeling like the walls were closing around him. No one heard him screaming, just like that night, just like all the years leading up to that night. All his pleas in a growling stomach and a few whispered words and a torn school vest were ignored, and him slapped for them.

They thought he was crazy, murmuring that he was just like his parents. And Yukine ran, the first chance he got. And this time, he vowed he wouldn't go hungry. He stole whatever he could. Because fuck them, fuck them, fuck all the people who were able to enjoy what they wanted whenever they wanted when he got no such chance because the universe was cruel.

He'd thought he'd gotten a second chance with Yato.

 _Please believe in me, Yato._

 _I didn't do it._

 _I did something else with Nora, but—not this._

 _But I stole her future._ Yukine sniffled.

The door swung open. Yukine's teeth chattered, and it wasn't from cold.

"Yukine," said Yato's voice.

Yukine turned. Yato was staring at him, a look of crushing disappointment on his face. And Yukine broke then, dissolving into tears. "I didn't do it, Yato."

"It was found in your locker," said the principal. "It's hardly worth denying, Yukine. If you confess, it'll go easier for you."

He shook his head. "I didn't do it." He peered up at Yato. _Please—please—_

"How can you possibly say that?" demanded the principal. "It was—"

"I had barely gotten to school," Yukine managed. "How would I have had time to—"

"It was missing since last night."

"Wouldn't I have taken it home?"

"Would you have?"

Yukine shook his head. "I don't know, because I didn't do it!" He clenched his fists, and then he was screaming. "I didn't, but it doesn't matter to you, does it? You've already made up your mind!" Just like everyone made up their minds about Nora. "If you want to arrest me, then go ahead; I don't give a fuck! I hope you _die!"_

"Yukine!" reproached the principal.

"That's not going to help," Yato snapped, gripping Yukine's shoulder. "And no one is going to arrest you; expulsion is more the immediate concern." He glared at the principal. "Someone locked them in the basement a few months ago; surely it's not out of the question for some bully to—"

"I never heard about that."

"I didn't think it was worth mentioning," mumbled Yukine. _Care? Care? Why would you care? Why would I believe anyone would care?_

"Well, that I can confirm," Yato said. He glanced at Yukine.

 _Do you believe me? Do you actually believe me?_ Yukine was afraid to hope.

"I'll give you a few minutes," said the principal. "And then I'd like to speak to Yato alone." He rose, leaving the room. The damp weather seemed to be seeping into the room that was lined with bookshelves and casting grotesque, shapeless shadows across the green carpet. The door clicked behind him.

"If you did it," said Yato, and Yukine's heart fell. "Please just tell me." He looked down at Yukine. "Please tell me. Please, Yukine."

" _I didn't!"_ Yukine gripped his knees, doubling over. "I did not steal her wallet; I don't even—I wouldn't have—please, Yato—why—"

"Okay," said Yato. "I believe you."

 _Huh?_ Yukine looked up, wiping his eyes. "You do?"

Yato nodded, swallowing. He held out his hand, grasping Yukine's. "We trust each other, remember?"

 _I hope. I hope so_. "Thank you," he eked out.

The principal came back, and sent Yukine to a waiting room with a large window. The trees swayed in the window, green grass melting into mud. He pulled out his phone, texting Nora.

* * *

Nora stayed hidden under Yukine's covers as she listened to Hiyori and Yato chat, and then they left. They knew. They knew something was wrong. Yukine wasn't very good at hiding anything, especially when he didn't want to.

 _Please don't take me out on Yukine, Yato._ She didn't think he would. But she didn't know for sure, and she was scared. She bit down on her thumb.

She peered out the window after Hiyori and Yato left, watching Bishamon jog after them. Guilt prickled at her. She pressed two fingers against her belly.

 _Yato won't believe that I'm not working with Father._

 _He'll think it's a trap._

Unless… unless she came up with a way to combat that. Nora rolled off the bed. Her heart pounded.

Father would be at university right now. She still had her keys, jabbing into her thigh in the pocket of her jeans. Nora slipped towards the door.

Dammit, she wasn't going to be able to lock the door behind her. Nora hesitated. Well, that couple lived downstairs and worked from home—surely they should be able to keep intruders out. She thumped down the stairs.

"What are you doing here?" demanded a voice.

 _Oh, hell_. Nora froze. She turned to face Daikoku, looking at her with fear on his face. "I'm—just leaving!"

"Not for school, clearly." Daikoku folded his arms, blocking the door. "Were you in Yato's apartment?"

Her face flushed. So they knew who she was. "It's not what you're thinking."

"Isn't it? That boy is like a son to Kofuku and I, so if you're—"

"I'm not working with Father—I mean Fujisaki—I mean—I'm not working with him anymore!" Nora screamed. "He doesn't want me anyways!"

Daikoku's eyes popped. The door to their apartment opened, and Kofuku stared.

She hid her face. "Can I please just go? I was visiting Yukine. Overnight. I'm his girlfriend."

Daikoku looked horrified.

"Why aren't you going to school?" asked Kofuku. "I can drive you if you're worried about the rain; Bisha left her car today and I have a key—"

 _Don't act nice to me! You should be drawing exactly the right conclusion._ Nora stiffened. "I have something I need to do."

"School," said Daikoku. "You need to go to school and learn."

"Why do you care?" She cocked her head. "I'll go back tomorrow."

"Nora—"

"Don't call me that. I hate that name." She pushed past Daikoku, grabbing the door. _I'm doing what I want to do, now._

 _I don't know much of what I want to do, but I know I—I love Yukine and I love Yato, and I want them to be free of that man._

 _So I'll betray him, since I have to betray one of them._

"What do you want to be called?" asked Kofuku.

Her throat closed up. "I have—no idea." Wasn't that something parents usually decided?

But she had no parents. She never had, except Father, and she didn't like _Mizuchi_ either. Not anymore.

She shoved the door open and ran. Rain splattered against her face. She ran all the way to the bus stop, panting as she got on. The driver looked at her like she was a frog when she got on soaked.

She got off at the familiar stop, running to Father's home. She burst inside, heading to her room. She grabbed her art supplies, some clothes, and stuffed them into her school bag. Whipping out her phone, she saw that Yukine had texted.

Her blood ran cold.

 _It's Father._

 _He knows I'm gone._

 _And he's not happy about it. He's warning me. He—_

She texted him. _He paid someone to frame you just like he paid them to lock us in. At least I think he did._

 _He what?_

Tears pricked her eyes. She was sorry she hadn't told him, but was there even a point in apologizing. She had to fix this.

She made it to Father's office. She knew where he kept the spare key, atop the dusty doorframe, and she unlocked the door.

 _I've always been just a tool to you._

 _Well, this tool is going to—hurt you, too._

She was crying. _I thought you loved me._

 _I can't believe that anymore._ With Yukine, she didn't have any doubts that he cared. Stupid or not.

She knew Father's passwords. Because he trusted her.

 _Or did you think I was stupid, a fool? Smart, but not too smart for you? Or did you trust that I loved you that much?_

 _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

It didn't take long to find what she was looking for. She copied it onto a flash drive and stuffed it into the pocket of her sweatshirt.

A click. Footsteps.

 _Fuck!_

She felt completely trapped, unable to decide what to do. She scrambled out of the office, into Father's bedroom. She dove under the bed, coughing as dust and lint flew up into her nose.

The door opened. Boots appeared. Nora held her breath. Her throat tickled, but she would prefer it to close up than get caught here.

He moved into the office, and Nora tapped out a text to Yukine.

 _I'm trapped in my house Father's here and I just downloaded information that can help Bisha and now I'm stuck here._

 _What the fuck are you doing there?_

She didn't reply. She was too frightened, and she didn't know how to explain it herself.

The chair creaked, and Fahter walked through the bedroom ahead. Nora would have killed for a glass of water. The itch was so bad her throat was stinging at this point.

 _I'll tell Yato tonight,_ she tapped out at last. _It's Father, I know it._ He'd believe that, at the very least.

 _He said he believed me,_ Yukine texted. _I don't think he was lying. I think he meant it._

Nora tried to swallow. It was like swallowing pebbles. _He probably does._

 _It's strange having someone believe in me._

Her eyes stung. Father opened a dresser drawer. She had never hated anyone more at this moment.

She hoped Yato was willing to believe Yukine, at the very least, tonight, even if he didn't believe that she didn't get pregnant on purpose.

 _And I believe in you,_ he texted.

She squeezed her eyes and pressed her lips together, teeth digging into them.

 _You really do._

She was trapped here, and yet she felt free.

The floorboards creaked. He went back into the office. She gritted her teeth.

Yukine wasn't responding. But she didn't know how to respond herself.

 _I love you._

A crash echoed downstairs. Glass.

Father swore. His feet thudded past her, racing down the stairs. She heard him yelling. And she grabbed her phone and double-checked to make sure the flash drive was still in her pocket, and she scrambled out from under the bed, down the stairs, and into the dining room. Father was cussing from the bathroom.

She launched herself out the door, running. She stumbled when she saw Yukine hiding behind a tree. "You—"

"I threw a rock through his—"

"How did you get out of school?" Nora cried out. Rain splattered them. She hoped the flash drive didn't get ruined.

"The window was easy to slip out of, and you needed help!"

"Does Yato—"

Yukine shook his head.

"That's stupid!"

"I texted him and told him you needed my help!"

"So? Now they're all really going to think you're guilty and you—stole that after all—" She panted, her shoes splashing in a puddle, soaking her.

"I didn't want to leave you with that madman!"

"I can handle myself, you idiot!" She glared. "Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I—"

"Well, you don't have to!" He looked down at her. Lightning snapped above them. They turned and raced onto the bridge.

"We need to—get back," Nora choked out. "School or Yato's—" She paused, trying to catch her breath. She reached down and felt her stomach.

"Are you okay?" he asked, anxious.

She nodded, and promptly threw up over the railing. Yukine grabbed her hair and shoulder, holding her upright. "I'm—sorry," she choked out.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing to you."

"Both of us, then," she managed.

He almost smiled. A flash of lightning, and thunder rumbled.

 _We were fools, but I don't want to regret it. Even if I'm scared._

 _We just need to figure out how to move forward, and you—with you—_ She clutched his hand, and he held hers, and she didn't feel alone, or unwanted. He wanted her. He really did.

 _I want this child to be wanted, too. Even if not by me, it's what it deserves._

The sound of brakes squealing cut through her thoughts. She whirled around. Yukine tightened his grip.

Father emerged from a car hastily parked on the side of the rod. He charged at them. "Mizuchi!"

She couldn't speak. She didn't know what to say. Her throat felt like it was wrapped in string.

"I presume you're the one who threw the rock through my window," said Father. "In the rain, too. That was mean, Yukine."

"He did it for me," she said quickly.

"Are you sure about that?" He arched his eyebrows. "What did you take? My money?"

"Which bitch at school did you pay off this time?" she snapped.

He blinked. "I am—everything I've done has been to protect you, Mizuchi. I can't simply shrug off some no one getting my daughter pregnant—"

Another crack of lightning. She shivered. They really shouldn't be out in the open. "Last night you said you were glad. You accused me of planning it. Well, I didn't." Her voice broke.

 _I—I want more out of my life._

 _I don't want to just be your daughter._

 _I want—I don't know what I want, but I—I want—_

For so long she'd assumed he was all she needed, him and Yato. But she wanted herself. She wanted to see what she could do. And with Yukine—if more people were like Yukine, and like Kofuku this morning—kind—even if she fell and scraped herself up sometimes, maybe she wanted it anyways. Maybe she wanted to swing, to fly, to try.

"Get in the car, Mizuchi. We'll take Yukine back to Yoboku, and—"

"That's not his name," she interrupted. "Not even legally."

"Legal means nothing. Yours is legally Nora."

She flinched. _I hate that name._

"She doesn't like that," Yukine said quietly.

"Don't you call her that?"

"It's her name," said Yukine. "So _I_ like it. Whatever she's called, I like it. Whatever she wants to be called, I'll call her."

She looked to him. Her lips trembled.

"Get in the car, _Nora_ ," said Father, like it was an insult. Which it was. Which it had been. But it was—a shield, now.

"No."

"Get in the car."

"No."

"Get—"

"I'm not going back with you," she said. "You just—I'm not yours. I'm not—"

"Whose are you, then? His?" Father's face twisted in an infernal rage.

"Her own," said Yukine. "That's what—I love about Yato. He's trying to make himself into who he wants to be. He made me believe that, and Nora too—"

"He hates you!" Father bellowed.

"He—"

"This could be damaging my case—"

"She's not your property!" Yukine screamed back at him.

"You think you know her?" Father's eyes flashed. Thunder crashed. "You don't know what she's done for me! She'd do anything I asked. She flirted and stole and bullied a teacher into suicide! You think bullies are—"

"Because of you!" Yukine yelled. He turned to her. "Nora—"

It was true. All of it. She shook from head to toe.

"Just because she wasn't actually sleeping around doesn't mean she wouldn't have done it if I'd asked her. She's—"

"What kind of father would ask her?" Yukine looked repulsed.

 _You're not running away from me? Sakura… Sakura…_

 _I'm sorry. Yukine, Yato, Sakura, I'm sorry._

 _How can you atone for the dead? I'm a monster. I'm a worm. I'm—I—I hate myself! I hate it! I hate this!_

"You're a piece of shit," said Yukine. "And I love her."

"So am I," whispered Nora.

"No, you're not! You're—"

Father smiled. "Get in the car, Mizuchi." His gentle tone. The kind he used when patting her hair, oh-so-gently.

"No," she said, meeting his eyes, her own streaming, blinding her with tears, with rain. "I'm a piece of shit, but I'm still not yours." _And if Yukine loves this—_

He lunged. And she heard herself screaming, but Father wasn't even reached for her. His hand grabbed Yukine. She fell back, onto her rear. And then she realized Yukine wasn't there. He was falling.

A splash.

Drowning.

 _No!_

Father panted. He turned to her next, eyes wild.

 _No!_ She raced towards the railing. It wasn't far, maybe three meters. And she jumped.

 _I love water._

 _I'm scared. It's thundering._

 _I won't let you drown._

The water smacked her in the face. Its cold fingers thrust up her nostrils, into her ears. She fumbled around. Dark. It was dark. She couldn't see. She needed to see. Her fingers groped. Her lungs ached, but not yet— _can't breathe yet, no—_

Her hand clamped around something soft. He grasped her, panicking. She felt bubbles.

 _Let me pull you up!_ She kicked. _Stop struggling; you'll drown both of us!_

Her skull ached. Her chest felt as if it would explode. _Help!_

 _Yukine! Stop—trust—_

But she couldn't even speak, not underwater. The dark was terrifying him, clearly.

 _I'm not leaving you here, and I can't drown, I'm pregnant!_

 _Help—_

 _Yato will never know—_

 _Yukine deserves to live—I want to—_

Arms. One grasped her. The other, Yukine, and the arms pulled them both up.


	12. Aiko

He was choking, and there was no place to spit the water. It plunged into his lungs, was everywhere. He couldn't see. It was dark. It was just as bad as wet earth. Arms grabbed him, and he couldn't tell— _help—stop—go—_

His head broke the surface. He gagged, water spitting out of his mouth.

"Get to shore—I'll get him," panted a familiar voice.

She nodded, swimming off, and Yukine saw a face with auburn hair and glasses holding him above the water. His vision blurred. _Kazuma_?

 _How?_

"I've got you," Kazuma managed, teeth chattering. "Don't struggle or I'll knock you out."

Yukine gagged again. Kazuma towed him to shore. His feet dragged on a silty bottom, but he couldn't put weight on his legs. Everything felt like jelly, and his right calf seized in a spasm. He fell onto his hands and knees, vomiting.

"It's okay." She grabbed him, holding him upright like he just had for her. Kazuma frowned, holding out a pair of now-cracked glasses. Mud and sand dug into Yukine's palms. He gulped in air. Rain spattered them.

 _I'm alive._

 _How?_ He gaped at her. "You jumped in—after me—"

She grabbed him in an embrace. Her chin pressed into his shoulder, her arms tightened around him, and she let out a cry.

 _You do care._

 _You really do._ He clung to her. "But the—baby—"

"The _what_ now?" demanded Kazuma.

Oh right. He was still here. Lightning flashed above them. Yukine met his eyes, and Kazuma looked properly horrified.

"We need to get out of here," Kazuma managed. "Quickly. He just almost murdered you."

She nodded, hauling Yukine to his feet, her arms secure around his waist and keeping him upright. Kazuma stumbled up the bank, the two of them on his heels. They made it to the road. She let out a gasp when they saw Fujisaki running towards them.

"You—" Fujisaki's cry was cut off.

"What the hell is going on?" bellowed Yato's voice. Yukine whirled.

Yato, Hiyori, Bishamon—and Kofuku and Daikoku, too—they charged down the street from Fujisaki's house.

 _"Kazuma!"_ screamed Bishamon.

 _"Yukine!"_ yelled Yato.

Fujisaki turned and tried to run. Hiyori leaped at him, her kick direct to the back of his knees. He shrieked, falling to the ground. She planted her foot on his spine. "Don't move!"

"Why are you covered in algae?" yelled Bishamon, yanking the green stuff off of Kazuma's cheek.

"How is that important, Bisha?" yelled Yato.

"How is it not?" she screamed back.

"He shoved my in the river!" Yukine choked out. He jabbed his finger at Fujisaki. "He—he—it—"

"He almost drowned," confirmed Kazuma.

"I'm calling the police," declared Kofuku.

"Are you okay?" Yato grabbed Yukine by his shoulders. "When you—when you—" His face crumpled, and he was crying now.

Nora withdrew, folding her arms around herself. Kofuku appeared, putting a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at the pink-haired woman, eyes wide, lips trembling.

"Let's go," said Hiyori. "We should—get them home. We can call the police on the way." She glanced down at Fujisaki, face turning in disgust.

Yukine was shivering. Nausea welled up again. _Yato—Yato—I'm sorry—_

"Double buckle," said Bishamon. "We'll have to." She looked at Kazuma. "You are coming, right?" Her voice trembled.

He nodded.

"I'm coming?" Nora asked, voice soft.

"Yes," said Kazuma. He glanced at Yato, who nodded.

"You think you're better than me?" Fujisaki sputtered. He dragged himself up on his elbows, mud and rain staining his shirt. Blood flecked his face. "I—"

"Yes?" Bishamon said. "I do? We do? We are?"

"You _bitch!"_

Kazuma turned, foot raised as if ready to kick. Yukine grabbed him.

"He's not worth it, Kazuma," Bishamon said. "Look at him. He's pathetic."

He pushed himself to a sitting position. Yukine wondered just what Hiyori had done to him. "You're—just like me, you blonde—"

"Shut up!" screamed Kazuma.

"Burn in hell, Fujisaki," Bishamon said, sticking up her middle finger. She grabbed Kazuma's arm, squeezing. Yukine saw her fingers tremble. "Let's go."

"Are you okay?" Hiyori asked Nora.

She blinked, wrapping her arms around her midsection. She nodded.

 _They know._ Somehow, they knew. Maybe Nora was right and Father did tell them. Yukine swallowed. He couldn't look at Yato.

Kofuku tossed the keys at Bishamon. "Meet you back at the place. Daikoku's calling the police."

She nodded, climbing into the driver's seat. Hiyori sat on Yato's lap in the front seat, legality be damned. Yukine and Nora piled into the back with Kazuma.

"Why?" Bishamon demanded the moment the doors were shut. "Why—"

"Can we discuss this later, Bishamon?" Kazuma pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked as if he was about to puke. Yukine clutched Nora's hand. Yato saw. Yato studied Nora, but she wasn't meeting his eyes.

"As long as we do discuss it," she replied. "Because you always say later, and later, and you mean never, because you're the biggest coward—" She braked for a light and cussed.

"I know," Kazuma muttered. He leaned his head against the window, as if he was tired. The look on his face was exactly the same as Nora's: lips rolled in, skin milky, eyes bagged and noses flared in fear. Except Nora looked to Yato.

Yukine squeezed her hand. _I'm not going to let them just send you away._

 _You saved my life._

 _I was so scared_. He tried not to shake in the car. He couldn't come unglued, not here.

"My apartment," said Bishamon when they arrived. "We're all in need of cat therapy." She lead the way up the stairs. The door to her apartment opened, and Karuha whined. "Yes, I'm wet, deal with it," she said, burying her face in his fur. The kitty purred.

"I've never seen him acting pleasantly," Yato remarked.

Bishamon headed towards her bedroom, opening the door. Two silver kittens emerged.

"I fucking knew it!" Yato shouted.

"Oh, shut up," Bishamon said. "They're new, and I cleared it with Kofuku first."

One of the kittens bounded over to Nora. She stared at it. Yukine snorted, kneeling down to pick it up, and handed it to her. It meowed. Her eyes widened, scratching its head.

"I'll put tea on," said Bishamon. "I know you prefer coffee, Yato, so tea it is."

Hiyori snickered. Bishamon smiled.

Yukine sat on the couch, Nora next to him. Kazuma knelt, petting the other kitten, who batted at his hand as if playing. It rolled on its back, tiny tail up in the air.

Bishamon set the kettle on, and then returned to the living room. Hiyori and Yato sat on the second couch. Kazuma in the armchair. She perched on the arm of the chair, Kofuku and Daikoku arriving next.

"Well?" asked Bishamon, looking to Yato as if for guidance.

"Yukine," said Yato. "Before we get into what happened today… is there something you have to say to me?"

 _Fuck_. He felt as if he was being kicked out onto a stage to perform, and he had no idea what the lines were, and no preparation to stop his fall. He didn't have time to think about what to say, but it was happening. "I—" _How? Did he tell you—_

He swallowed. He didn't want to let Nora say it. She shouldn't have to. "I'm—I mean, Nora's—pregnant. And it's mine. It's my fault." He covered his face, and he broke down. "I'm so sorry—we're not—I didn't mean to—don't blame Nora, blame me—"

"There were two of us," Nora snapped.

"I'm sorry," he said again. _Please don't hate me. Please don't kick me out. Please still—please still be here._

 _I wish I had drowned._

No, he didn't. He didn't want Nora or Yato or Hiyori or anyone to have to deal with that. But he remembered his parents, screaming at him, screaming that he was a waste of space and air, that he was nothing more than a mouth to feed, that he was whining, that he was ungrateful, that he ruined everything for them and kept ruining it with his asking for food, and all he could fear was that they were right, that he should not have been born, that he should have been buried— _I don't want them to have been right!_

Someone grabbed him, holding him. He couldn't even pry his eyes open, but he knew it was Yato. "Are you—mad at me?"

"I'm—disappointed," Yato said, voice thick, as if he was trying not to cry.

Disappointed.

But he was still holding him.

He was still here. He was still trying.

"I didn't do it on purpose," Nora eked out. Yukine pried his eyes open, and he saw Hiyori sitting next to Nora, hand on her shoulder, and Nora looked terrified of that hand. "Father said he—he thought I did—he said he was going to try and—manipulate you with it—" She shook her head. "I didn't; I really didn't. I didn't want Yukine to—I wouldn't ruin his life like that." She doubled over. "No one will believe me—no one will ever—"

"I do," said Hiyori.

"Why?" Nora lashed out. "Do you just—try to be—better than—in every—"

"I think you're just like Yato," said Hiyori. "You do care. You just don't know how to show it." Her voice trembled. "Neither do I, not really."

Nora gaped up at her, tears running down her face. Hiyori hesitated, and then hugged her, and Nora sobbed into Hiyori's shirt. "I'm scared. I'm always scared."

"I know."

"Please don't hate me," whispered Yukine.

Yato stiffened. "I would never hate you. You're my younger brother, remember?"

Yukine gulped. He nodded.

"I don't—hate you either, Nora," Yato eked out.

She turned to him, still clinging to Hiyori.

"Yesterday, I was—I mean, I am—I'm afraid of—of him, and of you, and I—" His face twisted. He pounded the floor. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry—I should have reached—"

Nora shook her head. "I wasn't—I was trying—for him—I would have—" She looked to Yukine. "I love him," she said, pointing. "He—saved me from that, from Father. If it weren't for him—he really does—care about me." Her voice shattered, and gut-wrenching sobs rolled through her.

 _Me?_

 _But I'm—I got you pregnant, I should have used a—I—_

 _I helped you like that?_

 _You're glad you know me? You love me like this?_

"I don't know how I feel—about being a grandpa. Or uncle. Gruncle?" Yato mumbled.

"I think we can discuss what they want to do later," said Bishamon. "Since, you know, the police will probably want to find out what the hell happened today and why you were in the river."

* * *

 _What is happening?_

Yato felt like the world was tilting. He had not planned on this kind of disaster. And even if Nora wasn't telling the truth about planning it—did it matter? She was still a child, and she needed help.

 _No one helped me._

 _I don't know how I can help, but with Hiyori—I can try._

"Fair point," mumbled Nora. She gasped. "Oh no!"

"What?" Yukine asked.

She dug through her sweatshirt, pulling out a thumb drive. "It got wet!" She looked to Bishamon. "I'm sorry—I went to Father's to get files that could help your case, but it's—when I jumped in—they're ruined, I'm sure." She curled her fists. Her head lowered towards her chest. She sniffled.

"You went to his place to get files for me?" Bishamon asked, incredulous.

"I wanted to prove—I knew no one would believe me except Yukine, so I—" She shook her head.

"Do not," Bishamon said. "Ever put yourself in danger like that."

"That's rich coming from you," commented Kofuku.

"I'm an adult!"

Yato covered his mouth, eyes widening. Guilt swarmed him. _If I'd only listened—and still—_

 _I do believe you. I want to._

"She texted me, so I slipped out the window and—I really didn't steal that girl's wallet from school—" Yukine tried.

"I know," Yato said. Even when he and the principal returned to find the room they'd left Yukine in with the window gaping open and Yukine gone. His worst fear then wasn't that Yukine was guilty but that Yukine was going to run away from him, or that he'd be taken away.

 _I finally feel like I have a family._

 _I like it._

He watched Nora cry and reached out. His hand brushed her shoulder. She looked up to him, eyes wide, and he saw the same look he saw in Yukine's eyes moments ago. Desperation, a need for approval, the same reflection of himself that he saw in Hiyori.

"Anyways," said Kazuma quietly. "It doesn't matter that your files were destroyed."

"Why not?" Yukine managed.

"Because I wired his car."

Bishamon's jaw fell open. Yukine felt shock seeping into him.

"You what?" eked out Kofuku.

"Isn't that illegal?" demanded Daikoku.

"Yes, but I still did it. You can use it to threaten him, but to be honest, the fact that he then tried to shove Yukine off into the water should be enough to ensure he's fired," said Kazuma, gripping his knees. "I know; it's cowardly. But it's the only thing I could think of to—"

A slap cracked through the air. Bishamon.

Kazuma clutched his face, gaping up at her. She had gotten to her feet, eyes blazing.

"Should we leave?" asked Hiyori.

"No," said Bishamon, chest heaving. "Stay right here. What were you going to say, Kazuma? It's the only way to _protect me?"_

He cringed. "I'm a cowa—"

"I know!" she yelled. "I know, and I—so what? I'm the one who's just like him. He wasn't wrong, you know, what he was yelling. I do objectify people for my own ends—I just want to be wanted, so I help and I help and I help and I—"

"I try and I try and I try to be a good person and the more I try—" Kazuma gulped. "The more I _hate myself!"_ Vitriol soaked his words. "I'm the one who's just like—"

"Can I say something?" Yato interrupted, holding up his hands. His heart pounded. "I—I think from what I've been—trying to think of myself the past day—yo be a new person you have to face who you were." He looked at Nora. "That's why I ran from you. You are who I was, and I was—scared of myself, and projecting it onto you—I'm _sorry_ , Nora."

"I'm sorry I hurt you," she managed. "I—"

Daikoku sniffed, wiping at his eyes.

"I don't hate you, Kazuma," said Bishamon. She gritted her teeth. "Yato's actually right, and if anyone's recording me saying that I will make you suffer. But what if—what if I needed you to face yourself instead of everyone and everything threatening me? Because you're the person who could hurt me most. And you did, when you left. Because I need you—I want—because you're the person I care about most in this world!"

Kazuma gaped at her.

"If you like me as a person and not as some goddess then show me," Bishamon said, her voice shaking. "Trust me. Stick by me when it hurts and I'll stick by you! Unless you don't—care at all—"

Kazuma's face crumpled. "I—if you want to be wanted—I want you."

"Then _act like it!"_

Yato felt like applauding. Hiyori would probably kill him, though.

Kazuma reached up. He grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her face down towards his. He hesitated. She pressed her lips against his.

"Oh finally," mumbled Kofuku. Daikoku shoved her.

 _And we'll be wearing earplugs tonight,_ Yato decided as Bisha deepened their kiss.

"Don't go away again," she managed, breaking apart, resting her forehead on Kazuma's. "I want you here. Please. I know you're fucked up and I don't care. I want to help you."

 _I don't even know what it means to see myself as a person,_ Yato thought. He thought of himself as a worm most of the time, or a pawn in Father's plots.

He looked to Hiyori, to Yukine and Nora. _This is how we learn._

 _We accept, and we pull each other along. We hurt and we heal, we try to do better each time, and that's called living._

"Where will I go?" Nora whispered.

Yato gulped. "You are my sister. I'm not going to let—"

"We have room," said Kofuku. She looked at Daikoku. "It shouldn't be hard to get custody."

Nora blinked. "But—why would you want me?" She sounded genuinely confused.

"I ask myself the same thing about her all the time," Yato said, jerking his thumb to Hiyori, who frowned. "Don't question it." Though, it was hard not to, when you realized that Father had been lying and manipulating and using them for his own gain your entire life. Was there another way besides trying to discern ulterior motives? Or were they just foolish, to be taken in by his proclamations of love?

Maybe. But was it so shameful, to be desperate for love? To be loved and have someone to love?

Nora still looked at him like he was an idiot. And Yato almost smiled.

"I'd just be a burden," Nora said finally.

"No," snapped Yukine, holding her hand.

"I don't think so," said Kofuku. "I mean, we won't force you, but we'd love to have you around. Whatever you decide to do about your pregnancy."

Yato could tell, from the look on her face. She wasn't sure she could believe it. But Yukine was still holding her hand. She swallowed. "Okay." She wiped at her eyes.

"Hiiro," Yato tried.

She blinked. And then she shook her head. "That's not my name."

Not anymore. Too much had happened, and the scarlet name was now a memory. Yato bowed his head.

"What do you want us to call you?" asked Hiyori.

"Nora's what my name legally is. I don't have a choice."

"Yes, you do," managed Yukine. "It's—up to you. I like Nora. But I'd like anything you wanted to be called by."

They all seemed to know they shouldn't call her Mizuchi.

"I never really thought about it," Nora whispered. "What I wanted to be called. I just—liked the names that were given to me based on who gave them to me."

"Aiko," said Daikoku.

"Hm?" Yato turned.

"Aiko," said Daikoku. "Kofuku and I spent a lot of time going through names—" He stopped. "It's a name I think fits you."

She gaped.

 _Because—they want to love you. Yukine does. I do, too. I just failed at showing it. But, by god, I'll do a better job._ Hiyori squeezed his shoulder.

 _Who you want to be._

 _You get to decide._

"I—like it," Aiko said.


End file.
